Fear of Fright
by Steel and Ink
Summary: Jack and Sally have a human child in Halloweentown...but like her dad, she's got a rebellious streak. Can Alicia Skellington's new parents keep her from her human past? Or will love bring her back to the world she was born in?
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys- so recently I watched the nightmare before Christmas (SO AMAZICAL) and I had this great idea! I know I only write like 5 chapters and start something new, but I'm still working on lost in the shadows and both sides, so no worries! updates for all three will come often! for now I give you… (P.S. italics are songs…I know how many are in the movie so I've invented a few XD) (PPS I don't own this movie, Disney, or any of these characters. except Alicia. that would be the part I added in)

FEAR OF FRIGHT

Chapter 1: Sally Skellington

I sit quietly at the window, unsure of where to begin. The reporter paces by the door, gazing calmly at me. He takes a seat in a chair and removes a snake from his hair, bashing it on the table so that venom will emerge for his ink. The mayor and Jack lean against the wall, frightened eyes giving away the worry under their outer serenity.

"Now, Sally, let us start from the beginning. The first day you ever saw the child."

I shut my eyes, and a picture of Alicia dances on the back of the lids. I feel my stitches loosen as the tears begin to fall.

"My daughter," I whisper. "I remember the first day I saw my little girl."

~MEMORY: 16 YEARS AGO~

"Jack," I whisper. "I've been thinking."

He crouches over his book, intently studying a page on screams. "Really? What were you thinking about?"

I take a deep breath. "I want a child. But we're immortal. We don't grow old and we don't die, so I can't get pregnant. Don't you want children?" He pauses and looks up from his book, quietly marking the page before walking over to me. Taking me in his arms, he murmurs, "Well then what do you propose we do? I want one too." I whisper into his shoulder.

S: "_I__don__'__t__know.__I__don__'__t__know.__I__'__ve__no__idea__where__to__go.__The__doctor__could__create__one__but__I__hope__I__never__see__him__again.__"_

J:_"__The__vampires__could__bite__one,__bring__it__back__and__give__it__to__us.__Or__we__could__summon__a__child__'__s__ghost__from__the__grave,__bring__it__to__our__home__from__the__dust.__A__little__boy__who__would__play__catch__with__Zero.__"_

S:_ "__A__girl__who__'__d__be__a__scaring__hero!__Who__would__learn__to__make__them__scream__like__a__banshee!__"_

J: _"__A__boy!__"_

S: _"__A__girl!__"_

J: _"__But__WAIT!__I__'__ve__a__brilliant__idea__from__my__skull__right__to__my__toes-__there__'__s__places__up__above__where__unwanted__children__go.__These__sad,__unloved__small__children__wait__in__vain__for__someone__to__adopt__them,__bring__them__home,__give__them__shelter,__love__them__well.__We__could__go__UP__to__these__houses__filled__with__sadness!__We__could__choose__a__human__child__of__our__own!__Teach__them__everything__they__need__to__know__to__be__part__of__Halloween,__and__they__'__ll__be__good__as__hell!__"_

S: Jack, I'm not sure-

J: _"__No!__What__could__go__wrong?__It__'__s__a__logical__choice:__you__know__this__to__be__true.__A__child__will__be__happier__here__than__up__there__feeling__blue.__Doesn__'__t__matter__if__they__'__re__human!__Doesn__'__t__matter__if__they__'__re__not__a__monster!__Doesn__'__t__matter__if__they__need__a__little__help__on__Halloween!__We__'__ll__have__a__child__of__our__own!__"_

S: _"__A__child__of__our__own!__One__to__feed__and__raise__and__love__and__teach__our__different__ways!__One__who__would__be__ours__for__many__nights__and__days!__"_

Together: _"__A__child__we__will__have!__A__child__of__our__own!__A__human,__demon,__who__cares__which?__If__we__raise__them__right,__they__'__ll__almost__be__a__witch!__So__soon__we__go__to__the__human__world__for__a__child__of__our__own!__"_

Jack and I smile at each other as we headeoff to pack a meal for our trip to elsewhere. Still, as I prepare some wine, I wonder if raising a human child in Halloweentown will someday worry us. But I have faith in Jack's ideas, and besides, a baby of our own!

~later~

I gasp as we approach the tall gray building. Stones crumble down from the rooftops, and moss grows in the window frames. No light comes from the building: only the eerie green glow from the streetlamp provides the ability to see.

Jack hops up to the second floor window, reaching his hand down to pull me up. We must steal the child, since we obviously aren't humans. I hold up the lantern and look around the room.

Children of all ages, thin and tired, lie on thin cots. The sheets are off-white, and I can see bugs crawling over their pillows: lice. It seems lovely to me, but for humans, the room reeks of death. I know our home is more comfortable than this, and all worries I had vanish. I stalk among the beds, searching for any face that calls out to me, any body that screams with the strongest need for love.

Jack walks up next to me. "Don't forget: we can't get one that's too old. We have to make sure our way of life is the only one it remembers." I nod and continue, bending to examine the faces of the smallest children.

Suddenly, I hear a soft cry from the other side of the room, and I motion to Jack. Lifting the lantern higher, I spot a dark brown crib in the corner, and I walk towards it.

Spiders and termites crawl over the wood of the crib, making the foundation weak, but my eyes go immediately to the baby inside. Dressed in only a diaper, it lies on a soft white blanket, and based on the cleanliness, I'm guessing it's been here only a short time. I remove the diaper and check the gender: a girl. "Oh!" I cry softly before wrapping the blanket around her and lifting her into my arms. She snuggles against me, as though sensing she has found her mother. I coo softly, and she opens her eyes.

I nearly gasp. The child's eyes are the green-yellow of the thistle leaves back home, reflecting brightly in the light of the lantern. Most children would cry out at the sight of a monster like me, and I hold her away from me a bit, bracing myself for the shriek I am sure will come.

But my heart fills with joy as the baby doesn't scream. Instead, she pokes her little hands out of the blanket, reaching for me, as though wishing I would return. I hold her to my chest again and she immediately falls back asleep. I smile softly and return to Jack. "I've found her," I murmur. "She's the one. We need to go now, before anyone downstairs hears us or the children wake up."

Jack's shock is written all over his face: I'm not sure he really expected to find a child on our first try. Still, his serenity returns quickly, and he hops out the window before returning with our empty picnic basket. I place her in the basket and loop it carefully around my arm, lowering the lid so she doesn't fly out. I leap to the ground and hand the basket to Jack while I sew my arm back on. I hate when my limbs do that, but it's nearly impossible to avoid.

We run to the graveyard, leaping through the tombstone and back to Halloweentown before any human authorities notice our presence.

Back at home, I take the child out of the basket and lay her in the crib I've prepared, smiling as she snuggles with her blanket. Jack meanders up and puts his bony arm around my shoulders. "Is it a girl or a boy?" he asks me. "A girl," I murmur. "But she's very clever, Jack. Don't give me that look." He remains calm. "I trust your judgement, Sally. You're the smartest person I know. But only one problem remains…what do we name her?"

I gaze intently at the crib. A child like this needs a name of strength and grace, and I stare for a long time before the perfect name occurs to me. "Alicia," I state firmly, before exiting the room, Jack stumbling along behind me.

Later that night, I creak open the door to Alicia's room, awoken by her cries. I hustle to the crib and lift her into my arms: no hunger and no diaper troubles. She's had a nightmare. I cradle her gently and walk to the rocking chair, lowering myself slowly so as not to shock her.

"_Hush, little baby, hear this lullaby. Mother doesn't wish to see you cry._

_Wherever you go, whatever you do,_

_Mother will always be here for you._

_Someday you'll make a human faint_

_for your first scare I cannot wait_

_One day you will be the most brilliant of all!_

_You'll outshine even Jack,_

_Pumpkin King though he may be._

_Your strength and wisdom will lead you far_

_as will your beauty!_

_From your pedestal you will not fall._

_Hush, little spider, hear this lullaby. Mother knows you are blessed._

_Sleep and await the day."_

By the time I have finished, Alicia is fast asleep again in my arms, and I kiss her forehead before tucking her under her covers.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow guys…positive reviews on chapter 1 so I SHALL CONTINUE! HUZZAH! EVERYBODY LOVES ME :D

Chapter 2: Alicia Skellington

~11 YEARS LATER~

"!" I cry as I slide down the banister. I stick the landing and hold my hands high in the air, pleased with my success.

"Alicia! Breakfast!" Mother calls, and I grin, racing towards the kitchen. I sit down at the table. "Hello, Mother! Awful day, isn't it?" Mother, with her red-brown hair turned to me, murmurs, "Yes, darling. The ugliest." She turns and ladles a cockroach omelette onto my plate. "Bon appétit, darling. I have to fetch some herbs before the sun is all the way over the horizon. I'll see you when you get home from school." She plants a light kiss atop my head before dashing out the front door.

My mother, Sally, is the town apothecary, using herbs and potions to fix whatever problems Halloween folks have. Father spends his days planning the next Halloween, being the Pumpkin King and all, and has probably already gone to the mayor's office.

I don't mind that my parents are gone a lot. They spent lots of time with me when I was little, teaching me the proper scaring techniques as well as how to moan. I can let out a beautiful wail that scares all the cats for miles around. Besides, I'm very independent: after I flunked scare school, Mother and Father had a long discussion and enrolled me in a human school. I stay by myself, find all my own classes, and nobody sits at my table at lunch. It's the kind of solitude any ghoul would wish for.

Still, I'm not sure I like the expressions on peoples' faces when they walk past me. I don't see what's so wrong with me. I have lovely ice-white skin and hair the dark brown of ooze, eyes the color of the thistle leaves in our front yard. Still, my paleness is unusual for most humans, but I'm still pretty. I never understand their looks of horror.

I interrupt my reverie and glance at the clock: school starts in two hours. I need to go. Time for more boring lessons: math, geography, English…who NEEDS that stuff when you live in Halloweentown?

As I pick up my bag, the dreaded question enters my mind again: why did I flunk scream school? I tried hard in everything. I was a wonderful scarer. So…why? I slink out the door and trudge toward the graveyard and the woods, depressed beyond depressed.

As I meander through the graveyard, I hear barking, and whirl around to find Zero, my father's ghost dog, charging at me. I grin and kneel, letting him jump on my knees and lick my face. I stand and continue through the graveyard, Zero floating at my heels. I stare at the edge of the rising sun and sigh.

"_What__am__I__supposed__to__do__here?_

_Do I even still belong here?_

_Lost and confused_

_I wander on a moonlit night_

_and somewhere deep inside of me_

_I yearn to do something without fright_

_To avoid the cruel and nasty talks_

_The awful glares wherever I walk_

_Don't know what they all want from me_

_This is who I'm meant to be…_

_The daughter of the Pumpkin King!_

_A princess, frightful and fair_

_Lurking in her secret lair_

_Perhaps to jump from 'neath your bed_

_Or dangle snakes above your head_

_To send nightmares instead of dreams_

_To make you fear and squeal and scream_

_But even so…_

_my parents want me scary_

_The more doomed souls the better!_

_But if I keep making people cry_

_My own soul will be fettered._

_I am not naturally cruel._

_Nor frightening._

_Nor hopeless, nor desperate, nor dead!_

_And I've been having the strangest dreams and ideas_

_rolling around in my head!_

_Don't know what they expect from me_

_No! This is who I'm meant to be…_

_The pumpkin princess…_

_The daughter of fear…_

_I will be the most frightening creature of all!"_

I pass under the archway leading into the woods, shooing Zero back towards Halloweentown: no dogs at school. Not even ghost dogs.

I race to the front doors of the school, anxious not to be late: trouble means suspicion, and if there's one thing Mother and Father have made clear, its that nobody is to know where I really come from. The best way to do that is to blend in, and being late counts as being noticed.

I slip into my usual desk in the back row, quietly pulling out my notebook and pencils: I have this seat in every class. Back corner, next to the window, with a notebook and a pencil. I take notes, do my homework at lunch, and leave school with an empty backpack and a full locker: sixth grade isn't too hard, I guess. Still, I suppose my tutoring from Werewolf has helped my grades.

Today will probably be like any other, and I sit down at my desk in English just before lunch, expecting nothing. So when a small, white paper airplane lands neatly in the center of my notebook, I nearly have a heart attack. I assume someone threw it the wrong way and prepare to toss it back when I notice it has my name on it.

I cup the plane into my hands, looking around the room. Who could have thrown it? Who in this classroom even KNOWS MY NAME? Even the teachers don't call on me!

I slip the plane into the edge of my notebook as the teacher enters the room, continuing to subtly scan my classmates. All are turned away from me. But as the teacher begins to write on the board, a boy in the second row turns and smiles at me. I study him carefully: curly brown hair, a shade lighter than mine. Large brown eyes and a wide grin.

Unsure of how to respond, I send him a small smile and point at the notebook, mouthing, "I'll read it at lunch." He grins and turns back to the board, and I smile inwardly before focusing on the lecture.

At my locker, I place my notebook on the shelf and read the note he sent me.

It says "TO ALICIA SKELLINGTON" at the top, and I shiver a little: have I been discovered?

TO ALICIA SKELLINGTON:

I've been watching you for a little while. Don't worry, I'm not a stalker- I was just curious, since you always stay alone in class and at lunch. It may not seem like it, but I'm a loner like you. Mind if I join you for lunch today? I think we could be good friends.

-MILES JOHNSON

I carefully fold the note and slip it into the pocket of my gray denim skirt: seems I'll be having a lunch partner today.

As I fill my tray with the cafeteria crap, I look around the room carefully. Each table is crammed with one or two dozen middle schoolers, all in their distinctive groups. I spot my usual table, and sure enough, the boy I assume is Miles sits there, casually chewing his sandwich.

I walk over and sit down across from him, taking a few bites of my pizza. We just sit there for a while in total silence, eating our food. I can feel the looks from the other students in our grade: Someone actually sat at HER table?

I chuckle to myself. "What's so funny?" Miles asks. I jump a little: I was thinking so hard about his presence that I forgot about HIM. "Nothing," I respond calmly. I wipe my fingers on a napkin and stick my hand out to him. "Alicia Skellington," I tell him. "But you knew that already." He grins and shakes my hand firmly. "Miles Johnson. My locker's right across from yours." "Really?" I ask, retracting my hand. "How come I never noticed you?"

He shrugs. "I'm good at vanishing. Like you."

As he pulls his hand back, he knocks over his milk, spilling white liquid all over the both of us. He frantically apologizes and begins cleaning it up. When he looks up again, an expression of panic is all over his face, and I can't help but laugh at his confused look.

"What? What's so funny?" he asks.

I cross my arms and set my elbows on the tile. "Miles, I think this is the beginning of a curious friendship."


	3. Chapter 3

WOOT! Chapter 3! Byrneshadow…middle school is over. HA. so yeah- on with the story!

Chapter 3: Alicia Skellington

~FIVE YEARS LATER~

I burst through the double doors of the classroom, sprinting to empty my backpack into my locker before heading for Miles. I spot him, calmly unloading books into his jungle of a locker, and I grin, sprinting up and standing just behind the door of his locker.

He doesn't react: he can't even see me. Excellent. I grin eagerly before wiping all emotion from my face, clearing my mind. When he slams his locker, I whisper, "Boo." He leaps at least five feet in the air, and I laugh maniacally as the few books he still carries clatter to the floor.

"Jesus! Alicia! What the hell?" He bends to gather his books, and I help him, stuffing binders and papers into his leather messenger bag. "What?" I whine. "It's almost Halloween!" He gives me a strange glare. "It's still SEPTEMBER, man! That means it's still not cool!" he frowns at me. I punch his arm softly. "Lighten up! I'm close enough! Come on, we'll be late to English."

It's weird. Every year since sixth grade, Miles and I have had practically the same schedule: now, as juniors, we have every class together. It's nice to see him and all, but I never wonder why neither of us made any other friends.

Still, it's nice to have him around: my parents made me promise to keep my scaring talents in practice while I went to human school, and obviously, Miles is the only person I can practice on without getting arrested or something.

At lunch, we sit at our usual table: my cafeteria food, his homemade sandwich. Somehow, today's tacos don't appeal to me, but they're his favorites. "What's on your sandwich?" I ask. He peeks under the bread. "Ham, cheese, lettuce," he says. "Wanna trade?" I nod and slide him my tray. We munch quietly for a few minutes before he lets out a small cry of "Oh!" Rummaging through his bag, he yanks out a flyer coated in colorful designs. French words float over the page. "It's a global exchange program in Paris. I'm planning to go and I was wondering if you wanted to-" "Miles, my family doesn't have the money," I interrupt. He holds up a hand and huffs at me. "Let me finish! My mom got a raise and she knows you never get to go anywhere, so she said you could come at her expense. What do you think?"

I stare down at the paper, and suddenly the colors seem too bright. The words, even though I'm in AP French, make no sense, but I fold up the paper and tuck it in my backpack anyway. Father will say no, but it's worth a shot. "Thanks, man. I'll say thanks to your mom next time I see her. I'll ask my parents when I get home."

He smiles and shuts his bag. "Seriously, A. You complain all the time about how you've never been anywhere but this God-forsaken town, and then when the time comes, you don't do anything to get out of here! You're not even applying to college!"

I quietly set the sandwich down. "You know fucking well I can't do anything about that," I hiss. He glares at me. "Why not? You don't HAVE to take over the family business. It's your life! As soon as you turn 18, you're completely free to do whatever you want to! You could apply to college, get a job, LEAVE THE DAMN COUNTRY if you wanted to! Why can't you just-"

"Miles. Stop." I cut him off, slamming my fist down on the table. Tears well in my eyes as I watch my dreams, reflected in his eyes, shatter and bury themselves in the bottom of my heart once again.

The bell rings, breaking our staredown. I grin at the clock and pick up my bag. "Come on. We have math."

~IN MATH CLASS. BOOOOOOOOO~

I gaze dreamily out the window, ideas for stories rocketing through my head. Rather than numbers, my own script fills the page of binder paper: ideas for novels to write, poems to scribble, lyrics to put to my guitar chords. My familiar French song breezes by, reminding me of my dream of Paris.

"_Paris, je t'aime_

_Je voudrais te voir_

_I'll be there someday, my friend._

_I've little to say_

_And nowhere to go_

_But I can dream of Paris, ouais?_

_Je voudrais un petit copain_

_qui m'adorerai…_

_Qui m'aime avec l'amour_

_de cent mille années_

_Will I ever get there?_

_I hardly know anymore…_

_All my dreams dashed to dust_

_by my mother and father_

_But without hope, what is life for?_

_I've no life to live_

_Rien pour voir_

_Mais Paris me manqué…oui._

_I can dream of Paris."_

A small paper airplane distracts me from my thoughts of France. I glance at the teacher: he hasn't seen anything, and I exhale softly before unfolding the green paper.

It has only three words: "I see you."

My heart races: has someone figured me out? Where did I give myself away? I nearly have a small heart attack before spotting Miles grinning wickedly at me from two rows up. His eyes are sparkling with mischief, and I growl and stick my tongue out at him.

I scribble on the back of the paper plane. "What-ever. When's junior ditch day again?" I fly it softly beneath the rows of desks, and Miles catches it in midair. He writes back and sends it soaring, and I unfold it quickly: "Not soon enough, man. Not soon enough."

I stare at Miles, hand above my head, pretending to hang myself. He stifles a chortle, clamping his hand over his mouth, and we both quickly look back at the board as the teacher turns around.

Ah, the joys of high school.

After school, I follow Miles to the student parking lot, tuning in and out of his random blather. One of my stories from math class has bloomed in my head, weaving its vines in and out of my mind, petals rapidly unfurling into an explosion of colorful words. My train of thought is interrupted by Miles growling. "It's the bastard," he hisses, and I follow his gaze.

Oh. That bastard.

Mike Engleman, captain of the football team, strolls toward his Ferrari. 6 foot 2, black hair, senior class president, last year's Prom King, and the richest kid in the school. He also smokes crack and has screwed half the cheerleading squad. He's the complete and utter stereotype of our generation's hero. This year, he's my scaring challenge for Halloween. I can't wait: I bet the little bastard screams like a baby.

It takes a second for me to notice he's looking at me.

I scowl and grab Miles' arm. "Come on," I growl. "I think I'm Englebitch's next target."

We finally reach Miles' car: a black 1987 Ford pickup. Its paint is mottled, revealing flashes of silver metal, and the brakes only work if you aren't going uphill. It's the best car ever.

"You want to hang today?" he asks, twirling his keys. "It'll help you avoid Englebitch. You seriously wanna be left alone in the parking lot with that guy? I sock his arm. "Come on, man. I can take care of myself. Besides, my mom needs me to get home early: she has some weird surprise thing. Chill tomorrow?"

He nods, unsure. "Yeah…tomorrow." He slides easily into the driver's seat, and I back up a step as the engine roars to life. He rolls down the window, hollering to be heard over the truck. "I STILL DON'T LIKE DITCHING YOU WITH ENGLEBITCH RIGHT THERE!" I laugh and wave him away, heading back towards the spot where he thinks my parents will come pick me up. I watch him drive away, my heart contracting again as I think of how I fooled him.

But I know the rules. I can never tell my best friend where I come from.


	4. Chapter 4

BYRNESHADOW STOP PICTURING MILES AS THE PERSON FROM THE ADDAMS FAMILY! THAT IS NOT WHAT HE'S SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE AT ALL! MILES DOESN'T EVEN HAVE GLASSES!

(note: Alicia's Lament resembles a song from the movie Thumbelina, however, it is in no way related to Thumbelina, and I do not own the songs from that movie.)

Chapter 4: Miles Johnson

I clench the steering wheel, gritting my teeth. I don't like leaving Alicia alone in that parking lot with a football player who would probably commit rape. The things he would do to her- COULD do to her- Alicia's strong, but even she can't fight him off.

I finally notice my shaking hands and swerving truck, and I pull over to the side of the road before I cause an accident. I breathe deeply in and out, my knuckles turning white from my tight grip on the wheel. I have to control this. This bothers me way more than it should. Alicia will be fine, and Engleman won't try anything- he knows how much I care about her.

I bang my fist on the dashboard. Damn that Engleman: as soon as my mom and his dad started dating, the guy went snooping through my room and found my sketchbook. Half the pages in there are covered with Alicia's name, red hearts, places we'd go if we could get out of this western New York hellhole. Engleman holds it over my head every time I see him: he's got me blackmailed and cornered, and the guy knows it.

Alicia says I'm an amazing artist, and she hates that I won't let her go through my sketchbook. But if I let her see what I draw in there, she'll hate me for sure.

I swear to God I'm in love with her.

I revive the engine and swerve around on the road, speeding back to school, praying nothing went wrong.

Pulling back into the school parking lot, I breathe a sigh of relief: Engleman's Ferrari is gone, and Alicia still stands among the crowds of high schoolers waiting to be picked up. I park far from the group of students, relief flooding my chest, and I close my eyes, exhaustion from my panic attack washing over me.

When I open my eyes again, the clock on the car flashes "4:30 PM" at me in green. I blink, disoriented, and I begin to turn my keys when a flash of gray catches my eye.

Alicia.

She's sitting on the ground doing homework, papers spread all over the cement. Suddenly a little alarm goes off, and she pulls out her cell phone before glancing around and sweeping the rest of the papers gracefully into her backpack. Without another word, she walks away, towards the forest bordering the back of the school.

"What the hell?" I mutter. I slip quietly out of my truck, carefully placing my keys in my pocket. I've never been to wherever Alicia lives, and now's the perfect opportunity, so I can send her a message if something happens.

Okay, I want to stalk her, but I'm REALLY not ready to admit that to myself.

She tromps into the woods. her shoes scuffing against the few leaves that have already fallen: red, yellow, and orange create a canopy above us, and I can't even see the sky. But as we go on, the leaves shrivel and turn gray, the trees becoming more and more bare. Eventually we wander among dead branches and black tree trunks. And still Alicia keeps walking.

I follow her silently until she finally stops at a grove of dead, old trees. Six of them stand in a circle, each weirder than the one before. Alicia sighs and turns around, and I dive behind a different trunk to avoid being seen.

"_I__know__that__someone_

_Somewhere_

_Someone_

_Will come and find me_

_soon…_

_Out there, there's someone_

_Somewhere_

_Who's sure to save me_

_soon…_

_And when the rain goes_

_There are rainbows._

_I'll find my rainbow_

_soon…_

_He'll help me dance_

_among the stars_

_We'll go up where_

_the clouds are far_

_beyond us!_

_Love, can you hear me?_

_If you're near me,_

_sing your song…_

_Sure and strong! And…_

_I know there's someone…_

_Somewhere…_

_Someone…_

_Who's sure to love me…_

_soon..."_

Her voice echoes through the trees, and she dances nimbly, weaving through the trunks with the grace of a nymph. My heart stops, then beats too fast- she wants what I want.

But it can't be me she wants.

That's impossible.

I lean against the dead trunk, picking at a piece of split bark. My heart cracks along with the wood, and I sink to the ground.

Suddenly, the sound of a wooden door opening and closing rings through the branches like a gunshot, and I leap to my feet, sprinting around to the circle of six trees.

Holy shit.

On each tree, a different picture occupies half the trunk. A heart, a shamrock, an Easter egg, a turkey, a Jack o' Lantern, a Christmas tree?

WHAT THE HELL?

I run my hands over the pattern of the heart: it still feels like wood, but as my hands trace over it, a large bump surprises me. I get a firm grip on the bump and turn it, and the heart swings open, revealing a black vortex lined with flowing pink stripes. I slam it shut and lean against it, panicking: a door. They're all doors. But to what? And which one did Alicia go through?

Another banging sound interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to my left to find the pumpkin door swinging wildly on its hinge: it's been opened recently. I sprint over, flinging the door wide, and stare down into the vortex. Cool air blasts at me, along with the smell of rain. No color lines the space: only a long, black space leading to nowhere.

I take a deep breath and hurl myself through the tree.

"!" I scream. After a minute or two, I'm still screaming, and I shut my mouth. I've been falling for at least five minutes and I haven't gotten anywhere. Actually, I'm not moving at all: just floating strangely in the air. I move my arms, finding myself swimming through the air. I spot a shaft of gray light in the distance, and I propel myself into position, forward stroking through the vortex.

When I finally reach the gray light, it's a square. I reach up and grab the edge, relieved to feel solid stone under my fingers, and I get a firm grip before hauling myself up. I collapse on dead grass, gasping for breath. This whole mess is the weirdest thing I've ever done. WHY THE HELL DID I STALK THAT CHILD? I sit up, hands to my forehead, but when I remove them I wish I hadn't.

I'm sitting in a graveyard. Gray and white stones, cracking and coated in moss, protrude from the ground at odd angles, grinning Jack-O-Lanterns situated between each pair of graves. I scramble up and glance behind me: the flat plaque I used to pull myself out closes up, hiding the door in the tree far beyond. Nowhere to go but forward.

I take a deep breath and stalk towards the iron gates of the cemetery, trying to be as quiet as possible. I don't know who lives here, but based on the greeting I've gotten, I don't think I want to meet any.

What's Alicia doing in a place like this?

I reach the cemetery gates and dive behind one of the stone pillars: a town lies below me, completely made of green and gray stones.

More shocking are the strange creatures wandering around a large fountain in the center of the little town.

A clown with a fanged grin spins about on a unicycle, chatting easily with a werewolf in a plaid jacket. A fat, completely purple child rolls about near the well with a little green bat creature as a pair of hideous witches gossip with a strange fish creature. My heart pounds loudly enough that I'm sure these monsters can hear me. These are monsters: I'm sure of it.

I peer around the pillar again, and my eyes trace the houses. In the window of the palace at the end of the road, a familiar shadow stands just behind the curtain, pacing frantically. _Alicia._

I slip stealthily towards the mansion, my eyes following the teenaged shape departing the tower and reappearing in the window of the lower level. I crouch beneath the windowsill and listen. Only laughter and lighthearted sounds reach my ears, and I cringe. HOW IS SHE NOT SCREAMING IN FEAR?

I grip the sill and hoist my face just over the edge, gazing through the glass into a dark kitchen. Red eyes glow from under the stove, a furry claw stretching out. Suddenly, a high heel comes smashing down on the arm, and I startle before steadying myself. I follow the heel up to a thin greenish-gray leg, stitches all over and at the knee, ending at a scratchy brown skirt. My eyes continue upwards, following the brown dress, long reddish hair, and blue face. She's at least six feet tall, like some kind of ragdoll Frankenstein.

Alicia walks in and chats easily with the tall, thin woman, just reaching her shoulder. Laughing, she tosses chopped vegetables into something the tall woman is stirring in a pot on the stove.

The thin woman says something, and Alicia giggles before planting a kiss on the woman's cheek and turning towards the window. I hear only one word: "Mother".

My mind cracks in two, and I straighten, frozen, gazing into this eerie kitchen. Alicia lives here. She was raised here. This Frankenstein woman is her mother.

Alicia is a monster.

Suddenly, she spots me in the window, and her jaw drops. I back up a few steps before turning and racing towards the graveyard. I hear a door open behind me, and Alicia's voice echoes over the cobblestones: "Miles! MILES, STOP!" I don't look back.


	5. Chapter 5

hello- haven't updated this one in a while, but that's what youtube is for! rewatching the movie always provides inspiration!

Chapter 5: Miles Johnson

_Run__run__run__run__run__run__run!_My mind sends the message pounding through my body, every inch of me brimming with fear. Small, heavy footsteps pound behind me: no doubt Alicia, running behind, trying to convince me she won't eat me.

I've always been taller than Alicia, and I figure that eventually I'll outrun her. I sprint forward, pouring all my energy into taking one step after the other, and soon the sound of her rapid feet fades and vanishes behind me. I run for another few minutes before pausing to breathe, resting my hands against a tree: I've hit forest again, but I can still make out the shadows of the horror town far behind me.

Suddenly, Alicia's worried face appears in front of me, and I yell as I back into a tree trunk. Her hands are out in front of her, her eyes wide. She sounds like she's calming a horse.

"Miles! Miles, calm down. Dude, stop scratching against the tree! Miles! Chill out! I'm not gonna hurt you! Miles, stop!" she whispers calmly, keeping a neutral expression. She calms my nerves, but my peace of mind lasts only a moment before despair makes me moan and sink to the ground. Alicia goes down with me, her hands on my shoulders as she kneels just in front of me.

"I think I'm gonna throw up," I mutter, and she presses my head to down between my knees. I retch violently, but nothing comes up, and I shiver, the heat from her hands a comforting presence.

I raise my head and look her in the eyes: her smile doesn't reach all of her face. "Better?" she whispers, and I nod silently.

~awkward silence~

"So…how long have you…lived here?" I ask, hoping my voice doesn't show how shaken I am. She sighs. "As long as I can remember," she whispers. I moan: she's definitely a monster if she's lived here forever, and she smiles gently. "If it helps, I don't know what kind of monster I am. I don't seem to have any traits resembling those of anyone in town."

My heart rate goes down a little, and I smile. "So you're not gonna eat me?" I ask playfully. She punches my arm. "Gross! No way, man!" "I wanna know everything," I tell her, and she sighs. "Yeah, I know. Let me make this simple…umm…basically, I've been raised by monsters."

I slap her shoulder. "No, dude! I mean, like, what is this place?" She grins. "Halloweentown, man. And not the crappy Disney Channel movie version. That circle of trees with the decorations on them? Each one leads to a different holiday: the tree to Christmas, the egg to Easter, on like that. Follow the pumpkin, and you're in Halloween." I nod. "Makes sense. But who's the lady in the kitchen where you were?"

She grins and grabs my arm. "That's my mom, you idiot! Come on- you should meet her! She'll love you!" I rise with her, letting her tug me along through the trees back towards the towering castle.

"Mother! I'm back! I brought Miles with me!" she yells through the house, and the tall woman in the tattered dress enters the hallway. She's even taller than she was through the window: at least six and a half feet, towering over me…and I'm six feet. Alicia looks positively tiny compared to her mother: she's only 5'5. "Mother, this is my friend Miles. He goes to my school. Miles, this is my mother." Alicia's grin spreads wider as I shake her mother's hand, and I think everything is going smoothly until her mom's hand comes off, still gripping mine.

"What the…?" I mutter, and the tall woman comes as close to blushing as I suppose she can. "So sorry," she says with a gentle laugh, and I'm surprised by her voice: it's high and sweet, rather than the low echo I was expecting. I unclasp the fingers from my own and pass the hand back to her, and she pulls a needle and thread out of her hair, calmly sewing it back onto her wrist as she continues. "Happens all the time, now that I'm getting older. Stitches loosen, parts weaken, things like that."

I laugh heartily. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Skellington. I think we've been introduced pretty well." Alicia's mother grins. "Please, call me Sally! It's so nice to see Alicia having friends who understand! She can't really bring anyone silly around here, for obvious reasons."

My stomach growls, and Sally puts her hand to her mouth. "Oh, you must be starving! Come into the kitchen. Dinner's almost ready." She stalks back into the room she came from, and Alicia stands next to me, grinning. "What do you think?" she asks with a smile. I take a deep breath. "I think my opinion of monsters is improving," I tell her, and we head into the kitchen.

~a few minutes later~

Sally places a steaming bowl of something in front of me, and I prod the round floating lumps with my spoon. "Uh…what is this?" I ask, skeptically eyeing the odd greenish color. Alicia sips and smiles before whispering, "Worm's wart soup with eyeballs. It's to DIE for!" She notes my disgusted look and grins. "Just try it, man. My mom's a great cook, no matter how weird it sounds to you. Just trust me here. I grew up with the stuff, and do I look dead to you?"

I glance at her: pale skin, dark blonde hair, greeny-yellow eyes. She doesn't look like skin and bones to me, so I shake my head before nervously gulping down a spoonful of the soup.

"It's good!" I exclaim, completely shocked, and I shovel more and more spoonfuls into my mouth with Alicia and her mother laughing in the background. Suddenly, both women sit up straight and freeze, cocking their heads from side to side. They share a panicked glance, and my heart races. "What? What is it?" Alicia glances at me, concern in her eyes. "My father is on his way home," she whispers.

Without another word, she leaps up from the table and yanks me from my chair, slipping the bowl of soup into the sink, and sprints up the stairs faster than I thought was humanly possible. We climb and climb and climb, her practically dragging me up, until we reach a circular room filled with books and pillows. A fire burns, its embers glowing low, in the hearth by the window. She shoves me towards the wall away from the window and hisses, "Don't make a sound and don't move until I come back." She vanishes down the stairs, slamming the trapdoor in the floor behind her, and I back against the wall.

Something tells me Alicia's father is not one of the nicer monsters.


	6. Chapter 6

hey everybody! sorry, I haven't updated in a while, but here's another chapter!

Chapter 6: Sally Skellington

I wait anxiously at the foot of the stairs, twiddling with my fingers until Alicia reappears, face pale and teeth clenched. She nods at me, indicating that her friend is hidden, and I let out a small sigh of relief before the front door bursts open.

I can't keep my heart from racing: each sighting of Jack renews my love. His fierce, dark eyes and bony frame never fail to make my imagination a little more lively than it ought to be. I place a small, demure smile on my face and say, "Hello, dear. How was your day at work?"

He shoots a mile-wide grin at me, a sure sign that he's in a good mood, and something inside me lightens. Perhaps we can bring Alicia's friend out of hiding and introduce them, as long as Jack isn't in the mood to be prejudiced against humans. While he loves our daughter dearly, he never got over the fact that humans shot him down for trying to live out his dream, and it's made him a bit strict as a parent.

"Wonderful news, Sally," he tells me with a grin. Turning to Alicia, he says, "And it applies to you too, my little viper. Come into the kitchen. You'll want to be sitting down when you hear it!"

He stalks into the kitchen, barely making four steps, and I glance back at Alicia. She shrugs and approaches me, murmuring, "Do you think he's going through one of his obsessions again?" I glance at Jack, who eagerly stumbles about the kitchen, Zero nipping at his heels. I shrug back. "Who knows?" I respond, and we follow Jack's lead.

Taking a seat at the table, he paces a few steps before whirling around to face us. "Today I spent quite a bit of time with the Mayor: that's not news, I do it every day for Halloween planning. However, this afternoon we had a very interesting conversation." I nod, gazing calmly at his face. Alicia swirls her soup with her spoon, obviously disinterested and wanting to return to her friend.

He points at Alicia. "Now, the Mayor has been watching our little girl grow up, and you know what he told me today? He said he loves her and made a marriage proposal!"

Alicia and I widen our eyes and stare at him, and she drops her spoon against the side of the bowl in shock. "What did you tell him?" she asks quietly, her serious gaze leveled at her father's eyes.

His grin stretches even wider, showing his pointed, glistening teeth. "I told him nothing would make you happier. Imagine, our daughter married to the mayor! And at such a young age! It will be a step forward for all of our social positions!"

I clap my hands gleefully. Oh, it's wonderful! This marriage is just the thing we need to truly integrate Alicia into Halloweentown society. Perhaps a "mature awakening" will unlock whatever her scaring talent is! She's got to have one, after all these years with us. "Oh, Jack, that's absolutely wonderful!" I cry. Suddenly, a realization hits me, and I smile. "Oh, Jack, we've got a wedding to plan for! I'm going to be a mother of the bride, oh my badness!" My smile breaks even wider until I feel my lips are going to fall off, and I leap into Jack's arms, twirling about the room with him.

I turn to Alicia, grinning as widely as possible. "Oh, darling, isn't it marvelous? The Mayor is a great man! What a splendid match!"

She sits in silence, dumbstruck, but I see no shocking joy in her expression. This is not a silence of joy: it is a silence of misery. I tilt up her chin, gazing into her eyes. Frantic emotions race through: anger, fear, sadness, heartbreak, resignation. "What's the matter, viper?" I whisper. Heartbreak again fills her irises, turning the greeny-yellow a shade darker, and I gasp inwardly. She's in love…and we've arranged her a marriage.

Oh, dear.

Jack glances at her, a remote trace of something negative crossing his features for the first time today. "Little viper? Why aren't you happy? Don't you like the Mayor?"

She opens her mouth, closes it, and opens it again, and for the first time my daughter seems to be at a loss for words. "Father," she murmurs. "I understand your excitement, but I can't marry the Mayor."

My jaw drops, and Jack stares at her mildly. "Why…not?" he asks through clenched teeth, and I can sense the rage slowly boiling within him, like lava beginning to rise to the top of a volcano.

She stands up, drawing herself to her full height, still at least a foot and a half shorter than her father. Her voice is louder, her words more clear: her confidence has returned, perhaps now that she's thought of reasons for her answer.

"I cannot- no, WILL NOT, marry him, for three reasons, Father. The first is that I am a free being, with a will of my own, and you cannot make decisions for me. It is my right to say no if I wish to, and you cannot and should not answer questions for me. Second, I like the Mayor, but I do not love him and I never will. Any marriage where neither partner can love or respect the other cannot be agreeable to either party, though infatuation may last a short while. Thirdly, you and Mother have always taught me to lead by example. Think of the example you're setting for me. You are trying to force me into an arranged relationship when the two of you, my own parents, married for love! What kind of behavior is that? What kind of PARENTING is that?"

Jack straightens his back, the lava simmering very near to the surface. "You will learn to love the Mayor. You WILL MARRY HIM. We need the social boost and the connection to his fortune. It is for the good of the family. Do I make myself clear?" he says, his words dripping with threat.

Alicia glares coldly into his eyes. "You make yourself perfectly clear, Father. But I do not agree with you and I will still not marry him."

The volcano explodes, and fire burns in his eye sockets as he wraps his hand bones around her arm and squeezes hard. "Go to your room and think about what you just said. When you come down, the answer will be yes, or you are banished from this house forever." He shoves her away, towards the stairs, and she shoots me a sad glance before trudging up the many flights towards her room.

I place my hands on Jack's arm, hoping to cool the burning temper. He glances at me, his expression softening a little. "Sally, why doesn't she understand how great this would be for us?"

Gesturing to where she disappeared to, I murmur, "She does see, Jack, and she understands why you want her to say yes. You're her father and she respects her wishes. But you need to respect hers as well."

"_Perhaps she is right,_

_Perhaps you are wrong._

_Perhaps she's been treated_

_as a child for too long._

_She deserves freedom, _

_she's sweet as a dove._

_Give her independence_

_and let her choose love._

_This wedding is not meant for her_

_It's not her destiny._

_She has the right to say no_

_if it should be._

_She deserves freedom,_

_our angel from above._

_Give her independence_

_and let her choose love."_

Stepping away from Jack, I grab my basket and trudge out into the garden. I don't know what will come from this business, but perhaps my conversation with him helped. Something in me senses that nothing will end well.


	7. Chapter 7

IT RETURNS!

Chapter 7: Miles Johnson

Soft footsteps echo up the stairwell, and I dive behind a giant sofa, hoping it's not Alicia's father. The steps grow louder, louder, the stairs creaking and groaning as I shiver behind the ratty fabric of the furniture, until finally-

It's Alicia. I breathe a sigh of relief and emerge from my hiding place, straightening up as she collapses onto what I suppose is her bed. "So, what's the verdict? Can I go down and meet your dad?"

She glances up at me, as though amazed I'm still here, and I notice a change from when she left.

Her eyes, normally alive and sparked, are empty. Nothing fills the void, and the yellowish green has dimmed almost to hazel: she's gone completely numb. Her hands rest in her lap, limp and unmoving, and her gaze doesn't shift when I sit down next to her. She stares at the wall, frozen, as though she has given up every glimmer of hope. I remain still, knowing she'll talk when she wants to.

The smell of salt tingles faintly in my nose, and I glance at her again, watching as the first tear I've ever seen on her roll down her cheek. "They've arranged me a marriage," she says softly.

I'm thrown off-kilter, and the room spins for a moment before I return to my senses. In those five words, every chance we could have had, every moment we might have shared, vanishes into a puff of mist, and my heart pounds in my chest. Rage fills me, expanding until all I see is red against the blackness of the room.

"Who is he?" I ask through clenched teeth. She sighs and beckons me over to the window, lifting herself off the creaking bed, and it appears to be a huge effort for her. I scowl, angered at her change in disposition, and know right away that it's nobody good.

She gestures down into the town square. "There- the fat one with the white face and the hat, holding the megaphone."

I glance down, and sure enough, he radiates bad vibes. Sure, he's smiling, but his teeth are pointed and sharp, resembling those of a vampire. Another face waits on the back of his head, frowning and frozen in an eerie, horrified expression, and his tiny, piggish hands grab at the air around him.

"Something's wrong with him," I mutter, and Alicia nods her assent. "He's a player…and a freak," she tells me. "Even around here he's kind of a nutjob, but he's the Mayor- he runs the show. Of course, he's powerless outside the town-" She pauses, mid-sentence, the light returning to her eyes as an idea rushes through her.

"Of course," she says slyly. "If I were to vanish to, say, France, he wouldn't be able to come after me."

Confusion spreads, and my mind bashes her words about in the dark until her suggestion comes to me. The exchange program is her ticket out, if she can postpone the wedding until summer at least.

"I'll bring you the application first thing tomorrow," I say cheerfully. "We'll find you a way out, chick, don't worry."

She grins at me. "Man, I thought you'd never catch on," she smirks. "But thanks."

A low howl shoots through the square, and she shoves me away from the window facing the town. "You have to go before anyone else spots you…especially my father or the mayor," she tells me, firm determination and a wry tone returning to her voice. Shoving me towards a window on the opposite side of the room, she yanks a rope out from under her bed and ties a firm knot on the bedpost before tossing it outside. "Climb down," she tells me. "Keep walking through the woods until you find the trees, then go back the way you came."

I tug on the coarse hemp, testing its strength, before bracing my legs against the wall and lowering myself down the side of the house. I reach the frozen ground below and glance back up at Alicia's face peering over the sill- but it isn't there.

Scanning the window, I grab hold of the rope and prepare to climb back up when a sudden yell flies out the window. Quick as a flash, Alicia's face appears over the edge of the window, hair tangled and eyes wild, as though she's been in a fight.

"RUN!" she screams. "MILES, RUN FOR YOUR DAMN LIFE!"

I release the rope like it's a hot potato and sprint off, leaping over the fence and into the cemetery before taking off towards the forest. My heart pounds in my throat and my feet throb with pain as they slam against the ground, but I don't look back until I've reached the safety of the trees.

Peering out from behind a dead trunk, I spot a lean skeleton hanging out the window, hand shading his eyes to he can look around more easily. I dive back behind the tree and gasp for breath: that must be Alicia's father…and if he spotted me in her room when she's got an arranged marriage, he can't possibly be happy.


	8. Chapter 8

I'M BACK! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY YOU WERE LEFT FOR SO LONG! I'M SORRY JACK IS OUT OF CHARACTER! I'M SORRY MILES RAN FOR HIS LIFE AND I JUST LEFT IT THAT WAY FOR THREE MONTHS! I'M SORRY YOU COULDN'T CLICK NEXT!

HERE'S CHAPTER EIGHT!

Chapter 8: Alicia Skellington

I pull frantically on my dad's arms, trying to get him away from the window. "Dad! Dad, calm down! We're just friends! He didn't mean to cause any trouble and he's leaving right now! Dad, are you even listening?"

He turns around. "You two are only friends, you said?" he asks calmly. I nod rapidly, forcing my head to move up and down until my neck is sore. "Yes, dad, just friends."

He smiles. "Oh, wonderful! The plan will go perfectly then! Everything is going to be fine! I'm off to hire a wedding planner. And there's all the little details, of course, I'll figure that out. Oh, what a horrid wedding it's going to be!"

With that, he cheerfully descends the stairs. Luckily he forgets to lock the door behind him, and I race after him down to the kitchen. "Dad! Dad, wait, I never said yes! DAD! I did not agree to this wedding! DAD!" He keeps on whistling and heads out the front door, and I brace myself against the threshold as I scream at his back. "I WILL NEVER MARRY THE MAYOR! I'LL DIE FIRST!" I shout at the top of my lungs.

My father stops dead in his tracks, and as other townsfolk turn and gawk at me, I feel my face flush bright red- the entire square must have heard me. My old scare school teacher, the jazz band, the witches- the gossiping fish creature will have a field day with this.

Dad opens his mouth to respond, but I slam the front door and rush back to my room before diving under the covers and promptly starting my homework.

My mind races, and I stare blankly at a page of my English text, reading and re-reading the page until I growl in frustration and slam the book shut. I can't focus right now.

An image of Miles' face when I leaned out the window flashes through my head. _"MILES! RUN FOR YOUR DAMN LIFE!" _His expression, although at first incredibly afraid, changed to something I had seen a lot lately- determination. If he wants to get me out of here, he'll sign us both up for that exchange trip as soon as possible. Meanwhile, I need to find a way to stall the wedding.

That big screaming show downstairs, however, is probably not going to help my case.

I shake my head. I have school tomorrow. I need to finish all the work before I can worry about my impending social problems. I open my book with renewed force and clear all thoughts of weddings from my mind, drowning in the flowing poetry of Dickinson and Frost. Math homework is flawless, the one class I pass without even trying. The rest of the work passes in a blur, but I scribble down whatever answers I can think of before sighing with relief and shoving all the books into my backpack. The carefree days of middle school have passed.

To avoid thinking about my father's anger when he comes back, I throw myself into scaring practice for Halloween, only a month away. Tomorrow is October 1st, so I need to work hard to really scare Mike Engleman.

The big challenge this year is to avoid being recognized. Since I'm scaring someone who attends school with me- and who seems to be watching me- I need a convincing and terrifying monster costume. So far, I have plenty of fabric and fake blood to make a good banshee disguise, but I need to sew all the parts together.

I gather all my items and tromp down the stairs. "Mother? Can I borrow your sewing machine?" I holler loudly, half-blinded by the piles of cloth towering in my arms.

When I receive no response, I peer around my mound into the kitchen…to find the mayor sitting at our table.

My eyes go wide and I freeze, both concerned that he heard my announcement and shocked that he would dare show up here if he did.

"Ah, good evening, Alicia. Could I talk to you for a little while in private?" he asks pleasantly. I stutter, my mouth gaping and searching for the correct words, praying to escape this awkward moment, and I turn to my mother for help.

She glances at the mayor. "Of course you may. I'll be just outside the door if anyone needs anything." She shoots me a look of pity blended with…hope? Then she takes the piles of fabric off my hands and shuts the door behind her.

We both remain where we are, but I cross my arms and glare at him. He opens his mouth to say something, but I immediately cut him off. "You disgust me," I spit coldly. "A marriage? Really? I can't stand you and up until recently you weren't a huge fan of me. What on earth could you possibly gain from it? And more importantly, why the HELL did you think I would go along with it? I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man in the world, dead or alive."

He begins to speak again, but I hold up my hand. "Just don't. I don't want to hear it. A marriage proposal should me made directly to the girl, not her parent. My father does not control my life. I make my own decisions. And mine is made, Mr. Mayor. I will never be your wife. Have I been clear enough, or do I need to crawl inside your tiny pea brain so the other stupid half of you gets a chance to listen in?"

His cheerful expression never wipes off his frozen face. "Now, now, my dear. Let's not be rash. Your father has given his consent, which is important to any young woman, and think of the great benefits in status you will receive! With my noble title as Mayor, your family will be given a leg up…and to be frank, Halloweentown needs the money from your family's funds. It's a perfectly logical union. I'm sure when a little time passes you will come to accept me."

He slithers out of his chair, waddling towards me, and I know he wants me to show a sign of fear, to back me into the door or trap me in a corner. I respond by not moving. I remain frozen, stiff as a stone and at least two feet taller than him, my angry expression never fading. Still he continues to approach, and I lift my chin in defiance. "I see all the physical benefits, Mr. Mayor," I say calmly, my voice dripping with rage. Why won't he just leave already? "However, there are no emotional benefits for either of us. That is my reason for refusal. Mental health is far more important than riches or position."

His ever-plastered grin seems to grow even wider. "I wouldn't say that, my dear. I would be quite happy with you in my house." He runs one of his hands down the side of my pant leg, his stubby little fingers pressing in, and I shiver and kick him with all my might.

The Mayor soars across the kitchen, landing with a crash in the rattling cauldron, and when my mother dives in to see what caused the noise I slip out of the room and pick up the unsewn pieces of my costume, heading straight for the sewing machine.

My phone buzzes once, then twice, and I lock the door to the study before dropping my pile and flipping it open. One text is from Miles' mother, asking if I've seen him, and the second is her telling me not to mind because he just got home.

I switch to my contacts and shoot Miles a message. _U ok?_

While I set up the machine and sew, we have a conversation looking something like this:

_Yeah. R u?_

_Mayor just tried to rape my leg but failed. Guess that's all he can reach._

_gross. Want 2 hang tomorrow so he doesn't try it again?_

_Totally. Now go sign us up for the exchange program so I can escape being the midget bride._

_Np. C u tomorrow._

I swirl the white fabric in a quick turn and attach the sleeves. The nice thing about this machine is it has multiple hands to help you sew. Five little enchanted hands work alongside my own, so I'm already done with most of the costume. I'll buy the right makeup and wig at a store downtown when I leave Miles' house tomorrow.

After an hour or so, I pull the finished dress into my arms and gently carry it back up the stairs. I'll paint the blood on it the night before Halloween to make it look fresher. My phone flashes ten p.m., and I might as well be asleep before my father gets back so we can all avoid another argument.

I change into my pajamas before remembering that the mayor is still downstairs, and quietly slip a chair under the door handle to make it stick before crawling into bed.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Miles Johnson

The first thing I see when I get home is Mike Engleman's Ferrari parked in our driveway.

Damn.

When I walk in, he and his father sit at the kitchen table with my mom, who leaps up worriedly and runs to hug me. "Miles! Thank goodness! I was starting to wonder where you'd gone!" she says happily.

Engleman snorts. "Yeah Miles, were you and your gothie getting nasty?"

"Shut up, man," I snap before returning my mom's hug. "Sorry. Alicia invited me over for the first time and I was curious. She lives pretty far away and her parents don't have a car so I walked home."

Mom's face brightens at the name. She adores Alicia, so any time I hang out with her she isn't suspicious.

"Oh, how wonderful!" she exclaims. "Did you have a good time? I need to finish serving Sean dinner, of course, but after that I want you to tell me all about where she lives. I can't believe it's taken five years for her to invite you over, I mean honestly, she comes here all the time…"

I leave Mom downstairs to ramble on and trudge up to my room. Luckily, Engleman and I don't have to share one, but neither of the doors locks, so he still barges in and goes through my stuff.

Pulling out my laptop, I rummage through my history until I find the exchange website. I register both of us and pop in my mom's credit card number before slamming it and pulling out my sketchbook. I need to do homework, but first I rage.

Engleman smashes the door open, and I scramble to cover up the book. "Whatcha doing, weirdo? Drawing more lovey pictures of your emo chick?" he growls.

I grunt and grip the book tightly. "You wish, asshole," I mutter.

His face turns dark red. "What did you say to me, you little rat?"

"You heard me."

He leaps, enraged, and I dive under his arms and into the hall, crashing down the stairs and landing at the feet of Engleman Senior. "Well well, what have we here?" he asks in that annoying patronly, condescending tone he always uses with me. "Miles, you and Mike aren't getting along up there, are you? For shame. You'll be brothers soon. You'll need to start seeing eye-to-eye."

I glance up in shock. My mom sits quietly on the sofa, staring at her hand, and something small glitters on her ring finger. "Oh, god," I murmur into the carpet.

She glances up, delight dancing across her face. "Miles! Oh my goodness, Sean, you told him, I suppose. Isn't it wonderful? I'm the luckiest woman on Earth! There's going to be a wedding! You'll escort me down the aisle, won't you Miles? You can bring Alicia if you like, I'm sure she'd be happy to come. Oh, goodness, there's so much to plan!" She continues on in her airy, distracted tone, and I'm really happy for her. I am. Sean Engleman is a down-to-earth, rational man who can keep Mom's feet on the ground while her head is in the clouds. She's going to be happy.

On the other hand, he comes with Mike. The scariest monster I've seen all day.

Speak of the devil. Mike storms down the stairs, his face still red, but a quick glare from his father calms him down pretty fast. "What's goin on down here?" he grunts.

His dad looks him up and down with a steely glint, then more softly at Mom. "Son, Helen and I are getting married. She's going to be your stepmother."

The teenager's neck veins bulge with distaste, and I don't stick around for Mike's hissy fit. Even before I'm down the front steps, I can hear him screaming. "That nerd is gonna be my stepbrother? Are you freakin kidding me? I'll be at the bottom of the ladder, Dad! I'm already treadin thin ice with the guys over you dating his mom, but now I'm going to be stuck with him? You gotta be kiddin me!"

My phone buzzes with a text, and I slide into my truck before answering it. Even within the cab, the roar of his voice still vibrates the metal, and I grit my teeth as I pull the phone open.

_Any plans tomorrow? _

It's not signed. It doesn't need to be. Who else texts me?

_No_, _unless you count shopping for a tux.  
><em>

_Oh my lord. He didn't._

_He did. I don't know when the wedding is, but no matter what, I'm about to have a wonderful new stepbrother._

_…I might have an idea. Tell you tomorrow._

With that, she went to bed.

The next day after school, I found Alicia waiting by her locker. I started to talk to her, but she silenced me and slammed the metal door. After glancing around, she grabbed my wrist and dragged me behind the school, so here we are under the bleachers. Looking down, the dead grass is littered with used condoms and crumbled cigarettes. "Um, Alicia, why are we back here?" I ask.

She shrugs and peeks out from the bleachers one more time before settling. "Because I don't want Englebitch to hear us. I have an idea to solve your little problem." "Which would be…?"

She glances about furtively before leaning in close. "Every year, I have to scare a certain person for Halloween. Guess who it is this year?"

My eyes widen. "Engleman." She nods happily, her eyes bright with excitement. "If we brainstorm, I could probably scare him enough to keep him away from you. I've seen your mom with his dad. They're happy. They deserve to get married. They're going to be…to be…"

She cuts off and lowers her eyes. I raise her chin, just enough to see the rage boiling in her expression, and laugh. "You're gonna make it. No worries." She blinks, once, twice, then shakes her head and laughs with me. "Yeah, yeah. I think I got the wedding delayed until summer. Maybe. I hope. My mom might take my side so that I can finish the school year, so let's focus on Englebitch. What's the best way to make him wet his pants?"

"I don't know. Let's find out." My mouth splits into a wide, vicious grin, and something vile hits my veins. It burns like fire and feels great. For a minute I feel as monstrous as one of Alicia's parents.

She waves her hand in front of my face, and her voice reaches my ears again. "Miles? Miles, you okay? You've been sitting there for like five minutes grinning and it's getting creepy."

I shake my head. "Yup. Fine. It's all good."

What's he afraid of? How do we find out what he's afraid of?

Suddenly, I remember his explosion about the marriage. The problem wasn't his dad marrying my mom, or even really my personality. It was my social place. Mike Engleman is terrified of humiliation, and of being on the bottom. I hope that's it.

Wait. There was another time. "Alicia. There was something. A month ago, maybe…?"

She grabs my arm. "What was it, Miles? Anything helps. The more you give me, the better I can do." I stare at the ground, thinking hard. "He was watching a movie. I was upstairs but I don't think he knew I was there. Anyway, he was down there with the TV flashing when this big white thing crashed into the window. It didn't break the glass, but he totally freaked out. He started screaming

'Get away! Get away!' It didn't come off, and tears were just pourin down his face. He was yelling 'I'm sorry! I'm sorry I did it! It's not my fault you're dead, I swear it's not! I didn't kill you!' I didn't know what that meant, but it turned out to be a white sheet that had blown off of my neighbor's car. His freak out was weird though…like he did something godawful and gets haunted. Clearly he believes in ghosts – I mean duh – but I don't know what or why he screamed."

Alicia's gaze has become calm and thoughtful. "All right…I was working with a banshee costume but I can change it to all white. I wonder what he did though?"

I shrug. "Who knows? Maybe we can find out." She raises her eyebrow at me. "We only have a month. You honestly think we can solve a crime that fast?" I shake my head. "No. I think we can get Engleman off my back."

She nods. "Same here."

We sit in silence for a moment before she glances at me. "Did you sign us up for the exchange trip?" I nod. "Yeah, we're on the list. We leave June 10. Why?"

She sighs. "I need to get out of the house. This is my last Halloween in Halloweentown and I want to keep it that way."

I grab her hand. "Relax. You'll get out. We'll get away."

She sighs. "You can't say that, Miles. You'll have to come back here. Your mom will worry. You're going to have to finish high school…without me around to kick your ass."

My hand twitches, and she presses it gently.

Alicia won't come back. She can't, if she ever wants to really escape. But I will…and I might not see her again.

Without a word, I pull her slight frame into my lap and crush her against me. "Miles, what are you-?" she starts to ask, but I silence her. "Shut up," I mutter.

We stay like that for a few minutes, until the loud bangings from above alert us that the football team has started practice. Reluctantly, I lower her to the ground and pull out my keys, dragging her with me to the truck. "Come on," I tell her. "We're going to visit Engleman."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Alicia Skellington

This is crazy. It's got to be.

"Miles, are you nuts?" I hiss. "Shh! He'll hear you!" he mutters.

A branch scratches my cheek, and I scrunch myself into a tiny ball as much as I can. "Miles, your plants keep scratching my face. Make them stop."

He hangs his head and sighs. "And just what am I going to do about it?"

"I don't know! We could stand up and walk in! It's your house!"

He rolls his eyes and quickly lifts his eyes to the windowsill. Miles decided we should stake out his house and watch Engleman, since their parents are out for the night. So here we are crouched in the bushes outside Miles' living room, watching Mike Engleman secretly play with his Barbie and Ken dolls.

I lean against the side of the house and stretch. "Miles. This is stupid. We already know he's scared of ghosts and that he probably accidentally killed somebody. This is not the way to find out more."

He shrugs. "So? I'm getting this on film. I'm quite happy getting blackmail."

Standing up, I brush the dirt off my jeans and glare at him. "I'm going to look up recent events at the library. You coming or are you gonna be weird?" "Nope. See you later." "See ya."

I jog off to the library and ask for the newspapers section. They're closing in half an hour, but I think I can find something before they shut down for the night. The head librarian, a wizened and shriveled old lady in a pink jumper, reminds me in a soft voice that I'll need to leave soon, and I nod my thanks before plunging into the old records.

The accident can't have been too long ago, so I don't bother searching beyond 2006. Recent accidents…vanishing kids…lots of situations pop up, but Engleman's name doesn't appear in any of them, so I keep scrolling. 2007…2008…2009…three years flash by without a single mention of him.

_There_. March 2010. "Missing boy Mike Engleman, age 14, found on side of road with the dead body of his neighbor, 13-year-old Sarah Conner, four weeks after their disappearance from the Conner's backyard. The two teens both had signs of dehydration and violent animal attacks. Engleman's father had no comment and refused to let authorities interview his son, who seemed shaken by the experience and continually mumbled apologies to everyone around him, even when not provoked. Said the parents of Ms. Conner…" 

Violent animal attacks? Those have to be from the woods. But they were missing for a month…where could they have been? Surely I would have noticed them while I was walking to school every morning. But no, clearly they were hiding somewhere else.

Why didn't we hear about this earlier?

I check out the newspaper with my library card and stuff it into my backpack, determined to find out more. Next stop might be the news station.

Wait…March, minus four weeks, is February. Maybe the Cupids saw Mike and Sarah while they were flying out to cast love over the world.

I whirl around and head straight for the woods. Time to pay a little visit to one of our holiday cohorts.

~~~~~~a while later~~~~~~~

I yank the heart door open and leap in. The whole tunnel smells like sugar and flowers, and I gag. The sweetness is overpowering. Holding my breath, I swim forward, occasionally brushing the stripes of pink lining the black portal – soft as velvet. A small, heart-shaped window glows pink above me, and I propel myself forward to hurl myself out of the hole and onto a fluffy white cloud.

I hate other holidays.

Spitting fluff out of my mouth, I do a quick glance around. Chubby little babies with flawless blond curls and white diapers, both stained and clean, hover around my head. A voice dripping with sugar emerges from the crowd, and a slightly taller baby with auburn hair and rosy cheeks towers over me, attempting to look terrifying. "Hello, Halloween girl. Why did you visit us? Do you need to borrow a love spell, maybe?" He/She – I can't tell – blinks their eyes innocently, twisting at the perfect angle to shoot puppy eyes my way.

I stand up and brush bits of cloud off my sleeve. "Nope, sorry. I'm here for something more serious. Can I talk to the cupids who were on duty over my town three years ago?"

The cherub squints and pouts. "Why won't you use our love potions? I want to play with you!"

I sigh. "Okay, let's make a deal. If you'll take me to the cherubs I want to talk to, I'll buy one love potion from you. Agreed?"

The baby offers a wide, toothy grin and slaps its sticky hand against mine. "Deal!" The small crowd of cherubs flies off, and I glance around impatiently until they return. This whole world screams pink and innocence, but cupids are mischievous. Love potions always have side effects, and they end up causing trouble. I'll probably just throw it away.

Two cherubs fly up and greet me, smiling widely. "Hi! Did you want to talk to us?" they say in unison. I shiver. Their sync is creepy. I kneel to their level. "Yes, I needed to ask you some questions."

The cupid on the left holds up four fingers. "We only have time for three questions, so be quick!" he chirps.

I groan. This is why I hate other holidays. "Okay. First question. On Valentine's Day in 2010, did you see Mike Engleman and Sarah Conner running together in the woods?" "Yes!" they say in unison. I smile to myself. Maybe I will get somewhere.

"Question two. What did Mike and Sarah look like?" "They were clean at first. Then they got bloody. Then the girl was lying on the ground and their clothes got ripped."

The answer takes me by surprise, and I start, leaning backwards a bit. These cupids saw everything. Everything that happened.

I close my eyes and inhale deeply. "Question three. What happened to Mike and Sarah while you were watching them?"

The cherub on the right frowns – the first time I've seen that expression on a cupid. "They walked together. They were holding hands and smiling and laughing. Then we heard growling, and a little bear cub ran up and rubbed the girl's legs. They played with the baby and they smiled and laughed more with the cub. And then it's mama came, and she wasn't happy that they touched her baby. She growled and ran at them, so they climbed a tree and hid from the bear, but it smelled them and clawed at the tree and made a big cut in the girl's leg. The boy tried to pull her up, but he slipped and accidentally pushed her off. The bear made her dead and went away. We had to go when the boy climbed down because we had other jobs to do. That's three questions, goodbye!" The two cherubs join hands and fly away.

I lean back, reclining on the cloud, and run my hand through my hair. The violent animal attacks mentioned in the paper, I understand…but the dehydration didn't make sense. According to the cherubs' account, Sarah was dead for two weeks before the police found she and Mike. A dead person can't be dehydrated. And Mike's guilt…if the slip was an accident, he can't feel bad about killing her…can he? I need to find out what Sarah looked like, so I can make a convincing costume for Halloween.

A loud, familiar voice cuts through my train of thought. "ALICIA SKELLINGTON! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" I glance up to find my father storming through the clouds, scattering small cherubs as he goes.

Oh boy.

He places his hands on his hips and glares down at me. He seems so out of place in this pink and fluffy world, with his black pinstripe suit and bony figure. I almost want to laugh.

"Hi Dad," I mutter. He scowls. "Don't give me that casual attitude. Your mother and I were worried sick about you when you didn't come home for supper. You could have at least texted." I suppress a smile at the memories of Dad getting a cell phone so he could contact me when I was at school – his delight at pressing the tiny buttons and discovering he could talk to me without me being there.

"We're going home right now, young lady. You are grounded for two days, and that means you will not leave the house." "Dad, what about school? I can't just not show up."

He scratches his head. "Hm. I didn't think of that. All right, you're grounded this weekend. That means no cell phone, no scarevision, and you will NOT be leaving the house on Saturday or Sunday, understand?" I nod. "Yes, sir." He blinks. "What day is it?" "It's Wednesday, Dad." "Oh. Okay then. We're going home now." "Whatever you say, Dad."

I will never understand how such a scatterbrain created such an organized child.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Alicia Skellington

When I arrive home, my mother hugs me tightly and scolds me for being out late before sending me up to my room. "And no supper for you!" my father hollers up the stairs. I roll my eyes and slam the door before pulling my stash of snack beetles out from under the bed. Munching on a crunchy beetle, I reach to grab my phone, but feel a cold bottle instead.

I pull out a glass vial full of roiling, oozing pink mist, corked with a small red topper. No label. It must be the love potion I promised to take from the cupids. Did they slip it into my pocket somehow…?

Small footsteps tap up the stairs, and I stuff the vial into my backpack as the door pops open. My mother emerges with a small brown tray. "Hello, dear. Your father went to do some planning with the mayor, so I brought you dinner. Although I see you're snacking already."

I blush and slide my can of beetles back under the bed. "Sorry, I figured I'd need to eat something." She smiles. "Not a problem, my little spider. Here, it's just a mouse sandwich, but it's better than nothing. I had to throw away the fruits. They were unrotting."

Nodding, I take the tray from her. "Thanks, Mother. You're the best." I begin nibbling my sandwich, and she sits down on my bed. I never realized before just how tall she was. Why am I so much shorter than my parents? Maybe I just got unlucky genes or something.

"I talked to your father. He's willing to wait to marry you until you finish the school year. The wedding will be on June 9th, a few days after you take exams."

My heart flips and my stomach drops. I don't leave for France until the 10th. That gives the Mayor one night to…to…

I clench my sandwich so hard the meat pops out, and my mother gasps at the newly-made mess on the floor. "Oh dear, see what's happened! I'll get a towel to clean that up." She leaves, but I barely notice. Staring out the window, the world spins and turns odd colors before I clasp my hands to my head and bury myself in my floorboards. They wrap around me – strange, they shouldn't be moving. They aren't moving. I just rolled over. At the end of the year, it will be the Mayor's floor I'm staring at. The world is ending. My world is ending.

No. It's not ending. It just means I'm going to have to disappear…before I even fly to France. I need a plan. A new plan. I need to vanish forever as soon as the school year ends.

What am I going to tell Miles?

MILES!

I jerk wildly on the floor and somehow retrieve my phone, texting him the details about Mike and Sarah. _Any ideas for Halloween? I've had a few._

He doesn't text back. He's probably eating dinner or something. I wonder when his mom is getting married. Given her floaty nature, who knows? She'll probably arrive barefoot and have Mr. Engleman put her shoes on her instead of exchanging rings.

I climb onto my bed and spread out my homework. I don't have much due tomorrow, but I need to get ahead a little if I want to be ready for Halloween. If I get work done now I can work on my costume while I'm stuck in the house all weekend.

Mother returns with a damp cloth and wipes up the sandwich filling I spilled, chatting easily while she cleans. I don't say much, and I don't absorb what she says either, but I'm glad she seems happy. Let her be happy. She got the wedding delayed until June, at least, so let her think I'm going along with it. The whole escape will be easier if I pretend to behave.

"…and of course I'll hand-sew your wedding dress, that way we can make it perfect…maybe in a few months you could rummage through the trash bins at the florist and see what's good? Oh, and your honeymoon, well you'll have to stay here of course, the only time the Mayor could ever travel would be November…"

I glance up sharply. "The Mayor can travel? Like…anywhere?" Mother shakes her head. "Oh, no, he can't leave America. Actually, he can't go very far from Halloweentown, since he's so crucial in the holiday planning. They teach that in scare school, didn't you ever pay attention?" She sighs. "Some days I worry you're going to turn out like your father."

She finally leaves with a smile and a wave, and I shut the door behind her.

The Mayor can't come after me. Once I'm gone, nobody can come after me. I whirl around the room with glee.

"_Once I'm out, I'll be free,_

_I can live life just for me._

_A wife, you say?_

_Uh-uh, no way!_

_I'm going to be free!_

_Goodbye, Mother. Goodbye, Dad._

_Goodbye to the life I had._

_Come this summer,_

_For them a bummer,_

_But I'll be free!_

_Silly Mayor, we won't wed!_

_We will share neither home nor bed._

_I'll be away, far away_

_Every month and every day._

_But I'll be free!"_

I think of Miles – his sad expression when he realized I would never come back. The way he pulled me into his arms…

"_And for you, my dearest friend,_

_I swear it's not the end._

_I will reach you someday_

_And we will find a way_

_To love…_

_I love you, don't you know…_

_I hope you love me so…_

_But whether yes or no,_

_I'll be free!"_

I gaze out the window, highly pleased with my positive attitude, and crash back onto the bed.

My phone finally buzzes; Miles texted me back.

_Idk. Maybe pretend to be Sarah and guilt-trip him? Make him think she's coming back to murder him for what he did. Even if it was an accident._

I grin and message back. _That's what I thought too. I'll get going on my costume if you can find some lighting and a good way to terrify him at your house. Oh, and I'm grounded this weekend._

_Aw, for real?_

_Yep._

_Dang. I totally had a plan._

_Except you didn't._

_Nope. I had absolutely no plan. But I might be going tux shopping. Nah I'll wait for you to be ungrounded. I'm not buying any tux my mother likes without a second opinion._

_Np. I've got your back, buddy._

_Thanks A. I don't know what I'd do without you._

Oh, Miles. You're squeezing my heart a lot tighter than you need to. Knock it off and love me already.

The memory of sitting in his lap comes rushing back, his arms wrapped tightly around my torso. "_Miles, what are you—"Shut up." _It felt so right to be pressed against him, to just sit and be quiet with him. I can't marry the Mayor. I'll die first.

Does he love me? It seems like it. I'm usually sure of everything, and now here I am being unsure. I hate it. If he likes me he needs to send a freaking sign or officially friendzone me or something. I hate this middle ground…and yet here I am, not trying to leave it. I'm terrified. I don't get it. I never get scared.

WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!

Realizing I've left Miles hanging, I snatch my phone back up.

_The wedding date is set. June 9__th__, the day before we leave._

_How do you know when my mom is getting married…?_

_NOT HER'S, MINE, YOU IDIOT._

_Oh. That's not good._

_No, it's really not._

_We'll figure something out. You're smart and I'm stubborn. I will kick that little mayor in the balls if that's what it takes to get you out of there._

_Thanks, I'm sure my parents will appreciate that._

_Whatever. I'm just trying to help._

_Miles. Go do your homework._

_No._

_Okay, then I will. See you tomorrow._

I snap the phone shut and toss it away so I don't get distracted, and push all thoughts from my head. Oh boy. Fractions.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Miles Johnson

It's been one month since Mom got engaged. Only one month. And all hell has broken loose.

Halloween is next Wednesday, so Alicia is freaking out over the Engleman scare. We've rehearsed twice already even though we'll be in huge trouble if we get caught, and she's still having a panic attack. She needs to calm down. She'll pull it off, and the look on Engleman's face will be priceless. I'm going to record it.

Engleman's hissy fits have grown stronger and more frequent. Every time he enters the house, I barricade myself in my room just in case he blows up at his father or tries to take his rage out on me. Three times out of four, I'm right. Like today.

"Open the door, asshole! If we're gonna be brothers I'm gonna treat you like one!" he bellows, pounding his fists on my door. I sigh. He seems not to realize that I've stacked my dresser, backpack, dumbbells, and television against the door. Even if he plays football, it would take a miracle for him to bust through that thing.

My phone rings, and I reach to grab it, but it isn't on my nightstand. That's odd. I check under my pillows and sheets. It's not there either. My ringtone hums through the air again, and I dive under my bed. Nope. Nothing.

_Oh, no._

I turn my head to the side to find a small, blue light glowing within the mass of stuff I piled against the door.

Damn it.

Slowly but surely, I creep up to the pile and begin rummaging around – not enough to move anything, but hopefully I can reach my phone without taking apart my defenses. My hand brushes against what feels like my backpack strap, and I snatch at it. Come on…come on…it can't be way in the back.

I manage to yank the bag out of its spot and hiss through my teeth, leaping back in case the furniture decides to come crashing down. The mound shifts a little, but stays standing, and I sigh with relief as I crash back onto my bed.

"Hello?" I mutter into the receiver. Alicia's voice explodes at me, and I hold the phone away from me in order to calm the ringing in my ears.

"MILES! Oh my god oh my god, I'm in trouble. I'm in huge trouble. This is very bad and I do not like it and yes no maybe I do not know what I am doing HELP ME!"

Still rubbing my ears, I bring the phone closer to me. "What happened?"

"Zero was chasing his ball and when he came back in the house he splashed mud all over my costume! It's completely ruined and there's no way I can make a new one by Wednesday. What should I do?"

Mike's banging on the door grows louder again. He's still here? Really? "Open up, nerd! Your face and my fist need to make friends!"

Alicia rings through again. "Englebitch?" I sigh. "Englebitch," I agree. She moans. "That's annoying. Wanna come hang out? You could probably fix my costume with me." I glance outside…almost dark and raining. "Yeah, I really can't come to your house right now." "Why not?" "It's raining here, so I can't really walk to the tree." "Oh. Right. Weather."

Halloweentown is ridiculous. The only weather they ever get is overcast clouds. That is it. It doesn't rain, there's no sun, no snow, nothing. Always overcast.

I smirk at the phone. "You know, if Mike and Sarah were out in the woods, it's okay if your costume is kinda muddy. It'll make it more realistic."

A long pause from her end, then…"WHY DIDN'T I THINK OF THAT?!"

I laugh and shrug. "I don't know. You need to stop panicking and start thinking, A." "Yeah, yeah, whatever. See you at school tomorrow." "You need a ride?" "Dude, there's no roads where I live." "Right. Forgot."

She laughs and hangs up, and I drop the phone onto my pillow. Tomorrow is Monday. I hate Monday so much. Monday means class. Monday means a whole day of seeing Engleman around school and a whole lot of homework…but also a whole day with Alicia.

I still hate Monday.

Brain. Stop. What are you doing.

I need to get out of this room. I'm too cooped up in here and it's driving me nuts…but if I open that door, Mike will pound the crap out of me. The rain hasn't slacked off, so climbing out the window will result in me getting soaked.

Mike's fists hit the door harder and faster, and a small piece of furniture twitches. He's taking his rage out on my door. But if he knocks down that pile…

Another solid _thwack _makes my dresser shift several inches. The window it is.

I grab my phone, my raincoat and an umbrella and text my mom before heaving the window open and climbing onto the tree outside. As I force the window shut, I see Mike punch the door hard enough that it bursts open, scattering furniture around my room. His face is fire-engine red, and he huffs and puffs, towering over everything like a hulking giant. He charges forward like a bull, but looks confused when he finds the room empty. I don't stay to see more.

Sliding down the trunk, I hit the ground quietly and start running. I rummage in my pocket. _Yes. _Car keys.

I yank the truck door open and slide in, shaking off the water from outside. I spot Engleman's face in my window, yelling at me, and he rushes away. I fumble with the ignition. Get the keys in, Miles. If you don't you will die.

Somehow I manage to get the car running and pull out of the driveway, speeding down the street at forty miles an hour. I see Engleman shouting and growing smaller in the rearview mirror, and I sigh with relief. I'm going to live! I'm going to have an undamaged face!

Where am I going, anyway?

I pull over and ponder my options. I can't go to Alicia's, since I already said I'm not coming. The school is closed.

I lean back as it finally hits me that I really don't have much of a life. I hang out with Alicia, I go to class, and I play video games. That's it. I have to start applying to colleges second semester and I have no idea what to do with my life. At least Alicia will be off traveling and going to foreign school. I'll still be stuck here without her. And once she's gone, I'll have no life at all. I'll just be stuck here, in this western New York hellhole, with my flitty mom and her sturdy husband and my wonderful new stepbrother.

It doesn't have to be that way, does it? I could go with Alicia, wherever she went. I could tell her how I feel – how I really feel. I want it, I want her, I want us, to be together anywhere but here. I'm done with the shit in this town. I'm done putting up with Engleman. I need to get out of here.

I could do it. Right now. I could pack up my things and drive away right now.

I could, but I won't. Not without Alicia. Not without saying goodbye to Mom.

I punch the steering wheel and grip it tight. Why do we need to finish the school year? Why can't we just go?

Breathing deeply, I clench and unclench my fingers on the wheel. Alicia is smart. She probably already has a plan. I just need to calm down and wait. If she wants to wait until June, then we will wait until June. But it's going to be hard.

My phone buzzes twice, and I reach into my pocket. A text from Mike, telling me he's locked the doors and that if I want to come back inside I'd better be ready to face the consequences. Joy.

The other is from Alicia, and very short. My heart races as I read the tiny words.

_Mayor attacking me. Plz help_


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Alicia Skellington

Today started out well. I had my homework done, I had my plans for Halloween ready, I had made dinner for when my parents came home. I figured I could crash on the couch for a few minutes. I had earned that. Five minutes of rest wouldn't kill me. I lay down and closed my eyes. This was nice. Just me, a comfy pillow, and the gentle rumbles of the monster underneath as he growled in his sleep.

When I wake up later, the sunlight streamed in through the window. I sit up and stretched, cracking my joints. It feels wonderful until Zero runs in with mud all over his paws. I laugh. "Zero, when did you get so dirty? Silly boy, you know you're not supposed to…" my voice falters off as I spot the trail of dirty pawprints leading up and down the stairs.

I push Zero off me. "Zero, no! What did you do? Did you go in my room? Bad boy!" I run up the stairs, hoping the trapdoor is shut.

It isn't.

"NO!" I shriek as I burst into my room. Little brown splotches are everywhere – all over the floor, staining my sheets, splattered on my backpack. I hunt desperately, but when I find it, my costume is barely recognizable under the goopy mounds of dirt.

"ZERO!" I holler as soon as he trots in. "YOU BAD, BAD DOG! YOU'VE RUINED MY COSTUME! ZERO, HOW COULD YOU?!" I sink to the ground, my costume balled up in my fists, and the dog tries to lick my face. I shove him off. "Oh, go bother someone else," I mutter. He whines and nudges my hand, but leaves.

I call Miles, and he suggests that I just wear it as is since they were in the woods. Of course Miles had an idea. Why wouldn't he have an idea? Why didn't I have an idea?

Once Halloween is over, I need to start planning how to escape this marriage. I convinced my parents to wait until the end of the school year, but my father is impatient. He's already set a date and sent out the invitations. He sang an annoying song about it, which was not helpful when I was trying to do my homework. Miles tried, but the plane tickets aren't until after the wedding…how am I going to hide for two days? I can't go to Miles' house. They'd find me easily. Besides…I probably couldn't handle being so close to him. Two whole days, sleeping right near him…the thought is killer.

The doorbell rings, and I turn sharply. Father and Mother are both at the town meeting, as is everyone else. Who could be here at this time of night? I brush the mud off my pants and head downstairs. The bell rings again, and I shout "I'm coming, I'm coming! Hold on!"

I yank the door open to reveal the Mayor, that creepy grin still plastered on his face. I shiver, and he waves at me. "Ah, good evening, Alicia! Good to see you're still up. It's silly to let all that school business make you want to sleep. May I come in for a moment?"

I close the door a little bit, very subtly, and shake my head. "My parents aren't here, sir, so I don't think there's anybody you want to talk to. They're down at town meeting. Shouldn't you be there too? You are the Mayor. Of the town."

He chuckles. "Nonsense, my dear, your father has the meeting in good hands. It's actually you I would like to speak with, if you wouldn't mind." I shut the door a little more. "Um, I would mind, actually. I've got a lot of homework to do, so if you could come back later…"

He shoves his foot in the door. "Don't worry, I won't keep you long. I only need a few minutes of your time." I open my mouth to get him to leave, but he squeezes himself inside before I get the chance. "Now, my dear," he says cheerfully. "Could you brew a cup of tea? I've lost my megaphone and talked horribly loudly at the meeting, so I'm afraid my throat is quite sore. A bit of tea would be very much appreciated."

I want to kick him out, but I don't have a decent reason, so I shut the door. After he waddles off into the kitchen, though, I open it again. Just a little. Just in case.

The Mayor stares, unblinking, as I pour water into the kettle and set it to boil. I can feel his eyes boring into my back, burning my skin like lasers on a paper. I toss some herbs into the pot and clear my throat uncomfortably. "Would you like some thistle?" I ask nonchalantly. "Yes, that sounds lovely," he rumbles. I shiver as I drop it in the pot, hoping he doesn't notice my tense and trembling hands.

Suddenly, I feel one of his grubby paws on my ass. Every nerve screams for me to hit him, but I calm myself and step to the side. "Don't do that, sir," I tell him in a firm tone. He chuckles and replaces his hand. "Oh, I'm afraid that will be quite difficult, my dear. I've been waiting quite a while, and from what I understand I will be waiting even longer. A little touch now and then won't hurt, hmm?"

I slap his hand off me and dive for the hallway, but he snatches my leg. "Now now, let's not be hasty. I only just arrived, after all." He offers a wicked grin, and I quickly text Miles for help. Please, please, let somebody get here soon. Anybody.

The Mayor runs his hands up and down my legs, and I continue clawing my way towards the hall. I don't even need to get outside. It would be best, sure, but if I could even shake him off and lock the trapdoor to my room, I'd be safe until my parents got home from the meeting. His grip tightens, and I cringe. He cackles, a sharp, low grate on my ears, and leans towards me. "Oh, my sweet young thistle, you don't get it, do you? I will be your husband. You are mine and I will have you. I might as well have you now, since I will eventually anyway." He reaches for my chest, and I grit my teeth. If he leans over just a little more…

_There._ When he's almost horizontal, I jab a sharp kick into his tiny feet, and his chubby little frame bowls over and rolls helplessly on the ground, his legs flailing in the air. He growls and screams and threatens for me to help him, but I leap up and dash to my room, slamming the trapdoor shut behind me and moving a heavy chair over it. After a few minutes, large banging noises and the Mayor's yells pound through the door, but he can't budge it. I sit in the chair to add more weight and brace myself against the panels. I can't use my rope and climb out the window – the Mayor could figure out what I'm doing and wait for me at the bottom of the tower. The smashing noises coming from below grow louder and louder as the Mayor pounds with more force, and I clench my teeth at every impact. _Where the hell is everyone?_

I leap up and toss a little more furniture onto the pile before grabbing my rope from under the bed. It's not great, but it's got to be better than sitting here waiting for the Mayor to get in. It takes me several seconds to get the rope unknotted, but I manage to free the cord and tie it onto the top of my windowsill.

As I brace my feet against the frame, the pounding noises from the trapdoor stop, and I hear small grunts and complaints from the Mayor, along with what sounds like hits and another pair of larger footsteps. The Mayor tries to negotiate, plead for mercy, but the impacts continue and his attacker doesn't respond. A series of thumps continues, each _thwack _the solid sound of fist connecting with flesh, and I count. _Five…twelve…thirty-four…_the attacker doesn't stop for several minutes. Finally, with a heaving gasp, I hear the Mayor's heavy frame crash onto the porch, and somebody slams the door behind him. The footsteps approach the stairs and the trapdoor, and I scramble away. Whoever they are, they know I'm here. What if it's a serial killer? What if I'm the next target? Zombies are nice, of course, but I'd like to avoid being one. I grab one of my textbooks and brace myself in attack position at the top of the trapdoor, without removing any of the furniture. Just in case.

A small tapping drums on the door, and a muffled but familiar voice seeps through the floorboards. "Alicia? Alicia, are you okay? What happened? Can you hear me?"

_Miles. _I've never been so happy to hear anyone in my life. He got my text and beat up the Mayor to come rescue me.

The rapping grows stronger and more urgent. "Alicia? ALICIA!" A large push bumps the lighter furniture off the pile, and I quickly begin pulling my chair off the door. As I remove the last few pieces, Miles hurls himself the door, and it bursts open with an alarming slam. I jump a little, but then I spot his worried face scanning the room for me. He finally spots me, just behind him, and the relief spreading across his expression squeezes my heart. It's not an expression for friends. A friend doesn't come all the way to your distant house to make sure you're alive and fight off your attacker. A friend doesn't look at you the way Miles is looking at me right now. Even I know that.

He takes two large steps and sweeps me into his arms, pressing his face into my hair. For a moment we just stand there, him sighing with relief, then he backs away and holds my face between his hands. "Miles-" "Thank God you're okay," he gasps with relief. He presses his forehead to mine, breathing heavily from the effort of forcing the door, and I press my cool hands against his warm ones.

He closes his eyes, breathing heavily, and I notice that he's dripping wet. He ran all this way in the rain. His hair is half-dried in funny little spikes, plopping raindrops onto my arms at odd angles, and I run my hands down his cheeks. Very gently, I press my lips to his.

He starts a little, surprised, then wraps his arms around my waist and presses me into his damp clothes, and this has to be love, because I don't have anything else to call it.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Alicia Skellington

Halloween. The big show. Everyone is town getting super excited – the Cyclops washed his best eyeball, the witches have polished and cobwebbed their brooms, and even Miz Fish has poured on some extra seaweed perfume. And I, of course, have my costume ready to go.

I kissed Miles three days ago.

Miles is waiting at his house with some sounds and lights. Nothing too fancy or obvious, since we want Engleman to think it's really Sarah's ghost. But there's no harm in adding some extras to really get the supernatural feel going.

I love Miles. He loves me back.

As other citizens file out of town, I spot the Mayor dawdling by the main gate, probably hoping to hold me back while everyone's out of town. Doesn't he have people to scare? I roll my eyes and slip around to the back of town, cutting through the graveyard and sprinting as fast as possible towards the woods. The cemetery is open ground, so if he spots me here he can be after me in a heartbeat.

One of those things I've always wondered about. Heartbeats. Why am I the only one in Halloweentown with a heartbeat? And why am I growing older when nobody else seems to? Even the kids here have been kids as long as I can remember.

A small yell goes up from the crowd flowing from the town gates, and I whirl around. No fingers are pointed at me, but I should move a little faster just to be safe. With a last sprint, I reach the line of trees and slip behind a trunk, peering out at the crowd. The clock strikes eleven, and the last few citizens rush out the gate, looking panicked and ecstatic. Their faces will strike terror into the hearts of men, women and children. Most, unlike me, don't have a specific one person to scare…they travel all over the country and terrify everyone they can reach. Another reason I'm odd.

I can't marry the Mayor. I can't break Miles' heart. I can't break mine.

I shake my head. My thoughts are going all over the place. Tonight is the most important night of the year, and I need to focus. I have never failed a scaring challenge and I won't start tonight. Father is relying on me to maintain my scaring abilities despite this drama. I didn't feel like pointing out that the drama was his fault, but he had a point. My father is the best scarer of all and my mother creates potions that drive men mad with fear. Our family is the legacy of Halloweentown. I have to do my best as a Skellington.

I adjust my wig and continue into the forest. The show is about to begin.

When I arrive, Miles is fidgeting with a piece of lighting. I stand silently, waiting, staring, waiting for him to notice me. I should practice one last time. I'll make it perfect.

I fold my hands, gently pressing them into the folds of my skirt, tight, tense and afraid. Letting the brown pigtails bob a bit, I glance down demurely at Miles' feet and slowly lift onto my toes, slowly, slowly, count to five, and then lower myself just as slowly. With my flowy skirt and gentle bobbing, I look like I'm hovering, as a ghost does.

At the very top of my vision, I see Miles turn a bit and jump. "Jesus, Alicia, you startled me," he mutters. "Very convincing costume, though. You look just like Sarah."

I blink, startled. "You know her name?"

He smirks. "Of course I do. I went to elementary school with her." His tone softens, and I glance at him. His face is sad and gentle, and I approach him, gently taking hold of his hand. He starts a bit, then looks at me. "What was she like?" I ask.

"She was gentle. She had a quiet personality and she kept to herself. She rode horses and she loved to read. We were friends." He smiles to himself. "One day I told her I pitied her since she lived next door to Engleman. She totally freaked and started defending him, even though he had always been a jerk to her – she had known him for years. He was a sixth grader, and for an elementary schooler, that's old and powerful. She was in awe of how he could make friends everywhere and be so happy all the time. She really cared about him, even after he became an asshole. I'd never known him any other way, so I couldn't understand where she was coming from. We fought about it and she left. She went to a different middle school than we did."

His voice chokes, and tears are welling in his eyes. I brush them away with my thumbs. "You loved her, didn't you?" I whisper softly. He glances up and brushes a piece of hair away from my face. "Your costume is really convincing. You look exactly like her."

An idea dawns on me. Slowly, painfully, it reaches me. "So…you don't love me. You only hung around me because I look like the girl you were really in love with." Miles blinks and his eyes refocus. "No, Alicia, I mean…"

I shove him away and walk purposefully towards the house. "All this time, you were only around me because I reminded you of her. If I didn't look like her, would you even have talked to me? Would you have thrown that note in sixth grade?"

He stands silent, and I turn away. All these years of friendship…all this love I hold for him…could he really have been dreaming that I was Sarah all this time? It doesn't seem likely, but the way he spoke about her…Tears well in my eyes, and I dash them away. I can't cry now. I'll ruin my makeup.

Straightening my back, I walk towards the balcony and prepare to climb up to Engleman's window. It's Halloween and I have a job to do.

A strong hand grabs my wrist, and when I turn Miles is staring intently at me. "Don't blow this out of proportion, Alicia," he mutters. He pulls me to him. So close. Too close, too close right now. His gaze is too intense. I squirm, feeling myself blush, and attempt to pull away, but his grip on my wrist tightens.

"You're nothing like her, Alicia. I meant you looked like her with the costume on, since that was the point. To answer your question, yes, I loved her. But it was stupid, just an elementary school crush. I don't remember what I liked about her. To be honest, when I look back, she was pretty obnoxious. Would I really fall for a girl who liked Mike Englebitch?"

I blink. He has a point. He isn't like that.

He smiles softly and hugs me tightly, wrapping his arms around me. "You're nothing like her. You're dramatic and loud and determined. You don't change your mind and you fixate on your goals, no matter what happens. You focus on how to right the wrongs instead of complaining about all your problems. Even under so much pressure, you find solutions. You're honest. You would rather be yourself than conform to what others think of you. And you would never, never fall for Englebitch."

I smile into his shoulder. "You're a dork."

He smacks my arm lightly. "You know you like it."

I push myself away. "No, you're right. I definitely like it, and I don't like Englebitch. But I'm happy to make him wet his pants."

Miles walks over and kneels by the wall, cupping his hands. I step onto his knee, then into his hands, and he boosts me up. It's a good thing I'm light. From this position, I quickly climb onto the flat piece of roof and crawl quietly to just under Engleman's window. A small breeze whirls my wig – Miles has turned on the wind machine.

Rapping softly on the window, I begin to moan, filling my voice with as much wrenching pain as possible. The light machine goes on behind me, backing me with a soft white glow. "Mike…Mike…" I murmur, my voice thick with false tears. Engleman's form rolls over in bed, and he rubs his eyes before sitting up with a start. His jaw drops open and he scrambles to the floor, cowering at the foot of his bed. Pressing my hands against the glass, I tilt my head gently. "Hi Mike," I mouth, pressing my lips close to the window. "You remember me, right?"

Engleman trembles, snatching at the blankets that fell to the floor, attempting to cover himself. I smile sweetly. "You do remember me. I'm so glad. When you said you didn't know what had happened to me…you lied. You know you lied."

He shakes his head. "No," he murmurs. "No. I didn't lie. I never lied. I just didn't tell them. I couldn't tell them. They would have hurt me, Sarah-"

I slam my hands against the window and bare my teeth. "And now I'LL hurt you!" I bellow. "You lied! You lied! I'm dead because of you! You killed me! You let me die! You pushed me off that tree so you could get rid of me!"

Engleman shakes his head, pressing his palms into his temples. His teeth gnash and his face is pale with fear. I keep going. I'm winning. I can reduce him to a sniveling huddle of hormones – and that's the least he deserves for bullying Miles all these years. I claw at the glass, my fake nails leaving no scratches but making a grinding, unpleasant sound. "You pushed me into the bear! You knew you couldn't carry me around and you pushed me to get rid of me! I'll kill you, Mike! I'll kill you, I'll hurt you like you did me-"

The window falls open under me, and I stumble straight into Engleman's arms. He wraps himself around me, burying his face in my neck. "Sarah…don't ever believe that. Not for a second. I know you. I knew you. You fell on accident. I couldn't tell them what had happened. I was too in shock. I missed you too much. You don't understand at all. You're just a piece of her that got left behind. The piece that was angry, huh? Don't feel that way, Sarah. Don't you dare. I haven't thought about anyone but you since you died."

He leads me to the bed and pulls me into his lap, stroking my wig. "You feel so real." He glances down and brushes his hands over my fingers, pressing his lips to my palms. "I remember your hands. So small and soft…"

Uncomfortable isn't a strong enough word to describe my current feelings.

"I loved you, Sarah. You know I did." His face is stained with tears, falling fresh. "You saw me for who I really was. Other people saw a jerk, but you saw that I could be smart too. Other people saw a sports star, someone who could get them to the top, but you saw the boy you had always lived next door to." He presses his head to my shoulder. "Don't be angry, Sarah. I'll let you hurt me. I'll die with you if you want me to."

Before I can say anything, he presses his lips against my mouth. It's fierce, fiery, aching with the longing of the past three years. Without thinking, I shove him away from me, and his eyes go wide at the sudden rejection. Shit. I can't just leave him this way. He'll try to come after me and find out the truth…and when he does, he won't be happy. Internally, I shudder. I know what I have to do.

I soften my expression and run a gentle hand down his cheek, and he cradles it against his face. "Mike…of course I love you. But you shouldn't die. Death isn't a nice place. You shouldn't be here."

He glances up, startled. "If it's so bad, you shouldn't have to face it alone," he says. "It's my fault. If I hadn't slipped…if I had gripped your hand tighter…you would have lived…you wouldn't have had to…"

I press a finger to his lips. "Ssh, ssh," I murmur. "It's all right. I'm all right now. I couldn't get over you, Mike. That's why I couldn't leave this place. But now I've seen you. I confronted you. And it's made all the difference." His eyes brim, but I go on. "I'm not angry anymore. I can let go. I can move on."

His eyes take on a reddish tint, his face flushed with rage. "NO!" he bellows, and I start. He clutches his hands around my waist, so tightly it hurts. Here's the Engleman I know. "I'm not letting you go again! I'm not!" he hollers, crushing my lips to him. His fists tighten in my wig, pulling at the firm fastenings, and I let out a small whimper of pain.

He releases me almost immediately, and I sink to the floor, massaging my scalp where he yanked at it. "That's not you, Mike," I say gently. "You never used to hurt me. You're changing. I'm sorry that you are." He blanches, his face swarmed with guilt. "I didn't mean to-" "I know you didn't," I cut him off. "But I have to go now. You can't hold me here, no matter how much you and I wish I could stay. I can finally move on. I can go. And you should to." I begin moving towards the window, and he sits frozen on the bed, staring blankly.

I open the glass and glance down towards the light. It's blinding, but I can just make out Miles' face. "I've got to go now," I whisper. "But promise me one thing." He nods, expressionless, and I smile gently. "Find someone new to love," I tell him. "Someone else who you believe can see and know the real you." He nods, and the look in his eyes is so sad that I have to walk back and kiss his forehead. Smiling, I return to the window and step onto the ledge outside. "Goodbye, Mike," I say softly.

The glass clangs shut, and I make a small signal with my back hand to make the lights blinding for my exit. The light goes sun-bright behind me, and Engleman shields his face with his eyes. I dive to the ground while his gaze is covered, and gesture to Miles that we should go. He moves the light back and shuts it off just behind the tree, stashing all our equipment in the bushes as we race away, just in case Engleman comes to the window.

I'm off-balance. My dress is too long, my wig is too itchy. I rip the fake hair off as I trip and stumble on my hem, something I never had a problem with before. My heart is pounding a thousand miles a minute. If Engleman catches us, he'll throttle us both, but only silence follows us.

We make it to the edge of the woods and dive behind one of the larger oaks, resting against the bark. "Well," Miles pants, "Did you do it?"

I glance back toward the house. "I think so," I tell him. "But I'm not totally sure what I did."


	15. Chapter 15

I would like to warn you all that the next couple chapters are going to be a little fluffy. A bit stressful too, but mostly fluffy. YAY!

Chapter 15: Alicia Skellington

A few weeks later at school, walking down the hall, I ponder what's going on with Engleman. After Halloween, Mike stopped beating up Miles at their house, but at school nothing changed. He's still cocky, he's still nasty to geeks, and at first I worried that my visit on Halloween hadn't done anything. Mike had seemed like a nice guy, and I wonder if he cares about his reputation too much to change in public. Suddenly, a sharp elbow enters my line of vision, and I accidentally bump into one of the popular girls. One of the ones with long blond extensions and breast enlargement surgery who wears miniskirts and pink all the time. And boy, is she unhappy.

"OH. MY. GOD. You BITCH! You did that on purpose, didn't you, you little freak!" she screams over me while I crawl on the floor picking up my stuff. Her pink stilettos tramp all over, scattering my papers, and I scowl. I don't have time for her shit. I'm late to class. I need to turn in my essay.

She glares at me. "Don't ignore me! You have RUINED my best shirt!"

I glance up. It's a pink tank top with the words "HOT DANG" spelled out in rhinestones. I smirk. "If that's your best shirt, what's your worst one, a dish towel?"

She gasps and raises a foot to kick me, and I leap back. Her brain might not be sharp, but her shoes definitely are.

"Hey, Jessica!" A deep voice bellows down the hall. The blonde's face instantly turns sugar-sweet, and she whirls around to greet Engleman bounding down the hall. "Mikey!" she sobs happily, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. "Mikey, I'm so glad you're here. This little runt bumped into me and then insulted me! Just look what she did! There's coffee all over my shirt!" She points obviously at her boobs, and I roll my eyes. Ew.

Engleman glances down at me, and I glare at him before stuffing a few more of my books into my bag. He leans down, and I brace myself for a snark comment, shutting my eyes tight to block out the coming stupid.

The rustling of paper reaches my ears, and I look up to find Engleman gathering the papers that got kicked farther away. He crawls along the floor, grabbing every last piece, before kneeling by me and handing me the pile. "Sorry about that – Jess doesn't always look where she's going," he says apologetically.

I'm completely in shock. He's been a total ass to everyone else in the school and ignored me as usual, and now here he is, being completely nice. I gape for a moment before blinking hard and taking the papers from him. "No problem," I mutter. "Thanks."

He smiles and blushes a little, brushing his hair back from his face. "You're Alicia, right?" I nod silently, and he grins. "That dork's girl, huh? We should hang sometime. We could have some fun." His wolfish grin reminds me of the perverted mayor, but his tone is soft and harmless. Glancing up, his eyes are filled with genuine interest, even though his mocking expression hides it from his friends. Some members of the football team have gathered around, staring as their asshole hero helps the creepy pale girl.

I finish sweeping everything into my bag and zip it up. "No thanks," I snap before rushing past them down the hall, Jessica's enraged squeals drowned by the sea of my thoughts.

My heart pounds, a result of Engleman's years of flirting. Miles told me I look like Mike's old love Sarah when I stand in the right light. And my own advice that I gave him on Halloween… "Find someone else to love. Someone else who you believe can see and know the real you." Still, there's got to be somebody else that can see past his idiocy…although he even had me fooled for years. But I'm not a genius, and I've only known him for three years. Surely some other girl who went to elementary or middle school with him could see past his strong aura of douche. That shouldn't be impossible, right? He must believe he has friends who could see past it.

Would Engleman really go for me? Fall for me? I love Miles, so I would really prefer if he didn't…but my mind is blown by simply knowing it might be possible.

Engleman getting a crush on the monster girl. Who'd've thought?

Still, I'm not interested in Engleman. I'd like to stay with Miles, and I really don't want to factor another troublesome man into my life. Handling the Mayor is difficult enough.

I'm so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I almost barrel into Miles, who wraps me in his arms and whirls me in a circle. "Hang on, Flash, what's the emergency? You're going the wrong direction. You already passed the English room."

I turn my head back, and sure enough, the English classroom is 100 feet behind me. "My bad," I say. "Guess I was distracted."

"By what?"

I smile. "What do you think?"

He kisses my hair and turns me in the direction of the English room. "Come on, nerd. Time for class." I smack his face lightly with my hand. "Who are you calling a nerd? I'm awesome."

English is a drag, and I practically burst out of the classroom when the bell rings. Miles dashes after me and plants himself smack in the middle of my path. "We're hanging out," he announces. "Today?" I ask skeptically. "It's my mom's deathday. I have to go home for the party."

He frowns. "Well, today would have been nice…but I meant Saturday. Can you come over at noon?"

I smile. "Sure, I think I can do that. But it's Christmas on Friday, so I'd better buy your present first." He looks at me, surprised. "You celebrate Christmas?" I shrug. "Not usually. But I have every year with you, remember? You always invited me over for dinner and you and your mom would give me presents."

He nods thoughtfully, his eyes glazing, and I change the subject to make sure he doesn't wander off into the past. "How's your mom doing?"

He grins. "Good. She's really excited for the wedding. She and the planner have decided on late January, since she and Sean want to have a simple ceremony." His eyes take on a mischievous glint. "Say, when you go dress shopping, can I come along…?" I slap him away. "NO! Absolutely not. I need to focus on Christmas before I know how much money I have left for a dress. I don't exactly have a constant allowance like you."

He shrugs. "True. So just don't buy me anything expensive, dumbass." "Maybe I'll buy you something expensive and go naked to the wedding." A slow grin creeps across Miles' face, lighting it up. "_That _would be interesting."

Smacking a notebook into his stomach, I swing open my locker and begin piling books into my bag. "Okay, pervert, I need to get home early to bake Mother's deathday cake. Think you could give me a ride to the woods?" "Sure thing, A."

Walking back down the hall, we stop at Miles' locker, and I notice a large pad of red paper leaning against the wall. "Hey, what's this?" I ask, reaching over him to pull it out. His head jerks up to see what I'm talking about, and his skull jabs me sharply in the chest. I gasp and drop the paper, clutching at my shirt. "…OW! Ow ow fuck the ow." He squirms awkwardly, reaching his hands into open air. "What? What did I do? Why are you jerking around like a dying piranha?" I glare at him. "You jabbed me in the boob!" I snap. "You dogbun! Your head just whirled up and out of nowhere and smashed my boob!"

He rolls his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic." I scowl. "Well, it hurt." Miles glances up and stifles a giggle, leaning back down into his locker. "What? What's so funny?" I snap.

He points subtly behind us, and I turn my head to spot Engleman leaning against the wall, staring at us and chuckling. He's with a group of friends, so he doesn't laugh loudly, but it's clear he just heard our entire conversation.

I blush furiously and head for the front door. "I WILL BE IN THE PARKING LOT," I announce loudly to Miles before diving into the safety of the crowded sidewalk. He follows after me, covering his mouth with his hand to hide his laughter, and I climb into his truck fighting to suppress a grin. If that conversation didn't turn Engleman off from me, not much will.

Miles blasts the hard rock station, and we shake the truck as we drive towards the edge of the woods, screaming along to every song. At the forest border, I leap out, and he smirks at me. "Don't forget. Tomorrow at noon. I will come kidnap you if I must." I wave him off. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be at your house. See you tomorrow."

His tires squeal as he pulls back onto the concrete, and I wince before heading home.

Rushing into the kitchen, I glance at my phone. I have about an hour before Mother gets home. Hurriedly yanking a bowl out of the cupboard, I toss ingredients in…flour…sugar…beetle berries…lizard chips…I hurl the concoction into the oven and set the timer. The cake will be a bit undercooked, but Mother likes it that way.

The doorbell rings, but I ignore it. I don't have time for visitors. If I just don't make noise or go up the stairs, they won't even know I'm home. Curling up against the wall, I pull out a folder and quietly begin studying vocab.

The Mayor's voice rings through the door. "Jack? Alicia? Anybody home?" His knocks grow more persistent. "We've got wedding plans to discuss!" I sit very still and press myself as far out of view of the window as possible. If he sneaks over and peeps in, he still won't be able to see me.

Sure enough, I spot his grubby paws on the window, and I slide my backpack out of sight as he peeps in. I can hear him pressing his face against the glass, searching for any sign of life, but he seems disappointed and jumps down again. I wait for the gate to clang shut before I peer over the windowsill, watching him waddle away into the town square. His frowning face glares at me, and I dive back to the floor, rushing furiously through my homework in order to be done by the time Mother gets home.

40 minutes later, the timer dings, and I sweep my papers back into my backpack. I finished a few things, but not all of it. I'm glad it's the weekend.

The front door swings open, and I glance at the hallway as I open the oven door. Dad walks in, sniffing the air, and he grins when he sees me. "Hello, little spider! Something smells delicious." I smile gently. "Hi, Dad. I'm baking Mother's deathday cake." He grins at me, his bony teeth poking out at the occasional odd angle. "Super, just super! What flavor?" "Beetle berry." The smile falls from his face. "Hm…well, it's your mother's favorite, so I'll keep quiet. But cut me a slice of dragonfruit pie after she goes to bed."

I frown at him. "You're a grown skeleton. Get it yourself." He scowls at me. "Do not take that tone with me, young lady. I am your father and you will do as I say." I curse under my breath, and his face turns dark with anger, but the door opens before he can act, and he whirls around to welcome my mother home.

"Sally! Welcome back, my dear. Happy deathday!" he says with a cheery tone. Mother smiles and places a kiss on his cheek before stepping around him and setting her herbs on the table. "Thank you, dear. Hello, Alicia. How was your day?"

I step up and stretch to my tiptoes, and she bends down so I can kiss her cheek. "It was very nice. Happy deathday, Mother."

Dad returns to the kitchen, his face a bit disappointed that Mother skimmed over him so quickly, and I cough and nod in his direction. Mother takes my hint and wraps her arms around him. "And of course, I can't forget my husband. Did you have a nice day?"

His face lights up at the attention, and he launches into a detailed description of today's Halloween planning while Mother unloads her herbs and I slice the cake. For once, things feel normal again – Mother and I cook and do the house duties while Dad prattles on about work. It's…nice, I guess…but I would rather be off hanging out with Miles, and my load of homework keeps flitting through my mind. Plus, Dad keeps shooting angry glances my way – he's still not over my refusal of the Mayor, and the two of them have continued wedding plans, even though I won't go through with it. I still need a plan to get away, but hiding for two days in the middle of June shouldn't be hard. I can't go to Miles' house – that'd be the first place they would look…

"Alicia?"

My mother's voice pops in, and her brows are furrowed, glancing at me nervously. "Sorry, sorry! Happy deathday, Mother. Have some cake. I made your favorite."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Miles Johnson

Lounging around in PE, I hurl dodgeballs at Engleman with delight. He shoots me dirty looks, but he doesn't shout threats at me like he used to before Halloween. I have Alicia to thank for that. Since the torture stopped, I actually have money that he doesn't steal from me so that I can feed myself and take her out on dates.

Dates. We're dating. I can take Alicia out on a date and not feel weird about it. It makes me so happy I want to punch my fists in the air.

Christmas is in a couple days, and I want to do something special for her. It's not our first Christmas giving gifts, so going to the mall and buying a quick present doesn't seem like enough this year. The best present would be tickets to somewhere far away before her wedding, but since the France trip is coming out of my mom's pocket already, I doubt she'll give anything more.

Shit. Mom. The wedding is in a month and I haven't rented a tuxedo or anything. Mom announced that it would be "BYOBT" – bring your own black tie – meaning she won't be paying for my outfit, but I still have to wear the nicest clothes possible. I need to head down to the mall and grab a suit, along with Mom and Alicia's Christmas presents.

Well there's an idea…

A dodgeball almost smashes me in the face, and I quickly dive under it. Right. Gym class.

~~~~SATURDAY AT NOON~~~~

Alicia shows up right on time, arms crossed and a skeptical expression on her face. "All right, I'm here. What's going on?" I smile at her attitude. Despite her childish behavior, I know her mind is mature, and she's probably a little worried about my mysterious request.

"I told you, I wanted to hang out. We haven't had time to go out or anything just the two of us since we got together." She blushes a little at my blatant description of it, but then, we aren't exactly subtle people. "So this is a date?" she asks sarcastically, her tone lightening. I shrug. "Call it what you want. We're a boyfriend and girlfriend going out just the two of us. Most people would say that's a date, but we're pretty unique, so I'm sure we could think of something else."

She smirks. "Like a hangout?"

I smile easily. "Or an adventure."

"Maybe an escapade."

Sweeping into a low bow, I offer a noble hand. "Perhaps a dalliance."

She sways a little, her jeans tightening around her curves. "One could call it a tryst."

I stand straight and raise an eyebrow. "Don't those usually involve something more sexual?" She offers a coy smile, whirling around and heading for the truck. "Maybe. We should find out. Look it up on the internet sometime."

As she begins opening the door, I take a quick stride over to it and wrap my arms around her waist. She smells like the forest, and I press my head into the curve between her shoulder and her neck. "We could find out now," I mutter, pressing gentle kisses up her neck and into her hair. A small gasp escapes her, and I notice her grip on the door handle tighten. Brushing dark strands of hair away from her face, I kiss her cheek and grip her waist more firmly. "What's the matter? Does it bother you?" I ask her.

Her head turns towards me, and her eyes are hazy and disfocused. "No. Absolutely not. I mean-" she cuts off mid-sentence, her eyes quickly glancing at the house. She blushes furiously and turns away again, and I look up at the house. Engleman is walking right in front of his bedroom window – plus my mom could walk into the living room and see us any minute.

She removes my hands from her waist and faces me. "I don't mind any of it. I would love to spend time alone with you, go on dates and do more of that. But this," she comments, gesturing towards the house, "is kind of public. We're in plain view of your family and probably a lot of your neighbors."

I sigh. "Okay. Let's just go, then." "Go where?" I smile and sock her arm lightly. "I told you. We're hanging out. Get in the truck and you'll see when we get there."

She looks skeptical, but climbs into the passenger seat, and I slide into the driver's side. I turn up the radio, blasting at half-volume, and Alicia hums along like she usually does. But I notice that this drive, she slips her hand into mine.

It feels strange. We kissed almost two months ago, and now, finally, we're moving along. I'm glad our relationship didn't get awkward, and I'm glad we managed to just stay friends goofing off together, but there's definitely a more passionate side now that – to be honest – I'm excited to bring up. But things have been tough at her house. She's kept me up to date: the wedding plans are still moving along. The entire town thinks it'll be the event of the year, but Alicia and I are planning as best we can. I thought maybe I could take her on a side trip before we got to France, but Mom's wedding costs shot the idea down almost right away.

We pull into the mall parking lot, packed tight with Christmas shoppers, but I manage to squeeze into a space near the middle of the lot. We have to walk a little ways, but Alicia seems so amazed by the holiday decorations that it's fun just to watch her. "Wow. I didn't know everything could be so cheerful this time of year," she mutters. "Why? You guys don't celebrate other holidays?"

Her face turns serious. "We celebrate some of them, but…not this one. Christmas brings back too many painful memories for my father. He tried to pretend to be Santa Claus once, and he brought the kids all these scary toys. The military shot him down, so since then he hasn't been too keen on this holiday. That's why I spend it at your house."

I nod. "Understandable. I wouldn't like it either, if it commemorated the day I got shot out of the sky."

She laughs at that, her eyes brightening, and I slide my arm around her waist as I guide her towards the dressy clothing store. She looks curious. "Why are we going here?" she asks curiously. "SURPRISE!" I tell her. "You get to go tux shopping with me for my mom's wedding."

Her nose wrinkles. "Um…I don't know how to do that. I don't know anything about tuxedos." I shrug. "You don't need to. Just tell me what looks good on me and what doesn't." She smiles and shoves me through the entryway. "Fine. But as someone who is romantically interested in you, you do realize I'll like everything you put on?" I reach back and whirl her around in front of me. "Exactly. I'll be looking for the one with the strongest reaction, that's all."

An attendant in a dark, perfectly tailored suit approaches us. "Can I help you?" he asks, casting a sharp look over our laughing faces. I clear my throat and make my expression more serious. "Yeah. I need a suit for my mom's wedding." He nods and bows a little. "Of course. Right this way, young man."

As the clerk turns around, Alicia pokes my side right in the ticklish spot, and I fight not to dissolve into laughter. A few awkward, snorting chuckles escape me, and other customers turn and give us odd looks. The attendant sighs and keeps washing, and we dash after him.

The clerk holds a few pieces of black fabric against me, then others in different dark colors and eventually a few white shirts. Holding a small pile tightly in his hands, he nods. "Alright, we have enough to start with. Right this way." He gestures down a richly carpeted hallway, and as Alicia and I follow after him, he holds his hand out against her. "I'm sorry, miss. This is the male dressing room. Perhaps one of the clerks in the women's department could help you find a dress for the wedding? I assume you'll be attending it as well."

I want to punch him. I can barely afford this outfit, and Alicia has no money at all. She can't buy anything in this store.

Alicia raises her chin defiantly. "Excellent suggestion," she says, mimicking the clerk's finicky tone exactly. I slap my hand to my face to disguise a smirk, and she storms off to the opposite end of the store, vanishing behind a rack of dresses. My clerk shoves me into a velvet-covered room lined with mirrors.

He passes a few sets of clothes in the door. "Put on the basics and I'll help you with more…complex pieces," he mutters. His tone is almost suggestive, and I widen my eyes at the doorway. He looks bored and disinterested, so I knock the idea of harassment away and shut firmly…just to be on the safe side.

A few minutes later, I emerge, tugging at the stiff collar pressing into my neck. "It's choking me," I mumble. The clerk lifts his nose a bit higher. "That's how it ought to feel. If you'll allow me to do the tie?" he asks, holding up a fat piece of black ribbon. I nod and lift my throat, choking further as he tightens it. He pats it down and reaches for the matching black jacket on a hook. "Excellent. Place your arms in the sleeves, please." I obey, no idea what's happening, until he turns me around to a three-way mirror.

Damn, I look good. The suit makes my shoulders a little wider, outlining what little muscle I have. I tug at my wrist, and my silver cufflinks glitter in the store lights. If I were old enough to drink, I'd be swirling a martini right now.

"My, aren't you a dashing figure?" a low voice purrs from behind me. I whirl around, expecting some sort of middle-aged cougar, to find Alicia in a dark green strapless floor-length dress. It highlights her curves, clinging in just the right places. Her pale skin is glowing, effervescent against the dark hue of the dress. Her hair is streaming around her shoulders, and an attendant rushes up with a mouthful of pins.

"Excuse me, miss, would you like to try putting your hair up? Perhaps a simple modern style…"

Alicia swats her away. "No thanks. I like my hair. I'll leave it here. I'm just trying the dress on, I don't need to pull out all the stops."

I shake my head. "No, no, let's see it." She frowns, but takes a hair tie from her wrist and sweeps her hair into a plain bun. "Happy now?" she asks. I nod. It looks even better with her hair off her shoulders. "Alicia. You look amazing. Buy it."

She blushes. "You know I can't afford this," she mutters. I scowl. "Fine. I'll buy it." She glances up, shocked. "Miles, this dress is almost two hundred dollars. You are not buying it for me. You'll have to go to your mom's wedding in rags, and then I won't exactly look good with you on my arm." I shrug. "I'll find another tux. It's not like I'm going to wear it more than once. You, on the other hand, will probably find many uses for that."

She smirks. "Like what? My wedding?"

"There's always prom."

Her mouth forms an O, and she sticks her hands on her hips thoughtfully. "I actually never thought of that," she says. "But I'm still not letting you buy this for me."

"Fine," I mutter. I turn to the clerk. "I'll take the tux." He nods and walks away, probably pleased at adding another sale to his resumé.

Alicia's eyes go wide. "Well that was easy," she says with a knowing smile. I walk over and ruffle her hair. "You'll regret it. You ower me one." "For convincing you to not spend money on a dress?" "Yes. I wanted you to wear it. So you owe me one. Go get changed."

Once she's back in her dressing room, I turn to her clerk. "Put it on hold," I whisper. "I'll come back for it."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Alicia Skellington

I blink hard, cracking my back as I sit up in bed. Glancing out the window, the sky is almost black, and thunder rumbles in the distance. I can hear Dad smashing around the living room. His dark mood radiates through the floorboards.

Sighing, I roll out of bed and get dressed. Reaching for my socks, I see that Zero has chewed holes through several. I have to put on multiple pairs to cover my feet. The ripped fabric feels odd and rubs strangely against my skin.

Loud voices echo from downstairs, then the door slams, and I peek out the front window to find Dad storming away towards the cemetery.

Merry Christmas, Alicia.

I check my phone and throw on some warm clothes. As usual, I'm spending Christmas with Miles and his mom, and this year it'll involve his new family: Engleman and his dad. I shudder at the thought of spending the holiday with Mike, but Miles will be there, so hopefully things should be alright.

Slinging my coat over my shoulder, I shove Miles' present next to his mom's in my bag and head down the stairs. Mother sits at the kitchen table, her face in her hands and small sobs emanating from her chest.

Grabbing a napkin, I dash to her side and begin wiping the tears away. "Mother, please calm down. Your stitches will loosen. You don't want your face to fall off, do you? Come on, Mother. What happened? What's wrong?"

She takes the hanky from me and pats her face dry. "Thank you, little spider. Nothing happened. It's all right. Your father is just…" Her face darkens, and her eyes look very sad. "You know how he gets on Christmas."

I nod. "What did he do?"

She sighs, then with a furtive glance at me, pulls a purple and gray wrapped box from under the table. "I wanted to give you this as a Christmas present," she says pleasantly, her voice still a bit thick from crying. "I know he hates the holiday, but I thought you should get a present, just once in your lifetime." Pushing the box across the table, she leans in and gestures at me. "Go on, open it."

I glance at the clock. Miles said to get there at one to help with the food. It's eleven-thirty right now, and it's an hour walk to Miles' place…but Mother looks so eager, pushing her box across the table, that I feel obliged to open it.

Gently, I untie the messy bow and lift the lid off the box. Beneath is a mass of white fabric, covered in spiderwebs and lace. I pull it out, hoping to figure out what it is, but the mass of cloth remains shapeless.

"Um…Mother, what is this?" I ask, holding it up to the light. Whatever it is, the embroidery is lovely. The lace catches what little light streams through the window, even though it's a stormy day, and I have a feeling that it would positively shimmer in the sun.

"It's my wedding dress," she says with a smile. "The dress I wore on the happiest day of my life. I thought maybe you could wear it on your wedding day."

My heart sinks. I want to vomit. The wedding to the mayor is in less than 6 months – the event that will ruin my entire life. And here's my own mother, handing me her precious wedding dress and chatting like absolutely nothing is wrong.

She stares at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something. I swallow nervously. I love this dress. It's beautiful. I wish it could be my wedding dress someday. But if I tell her I love it, she might take it as some sort of sign that I've accepted my marriage to the mayor.

I choke out a response. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

Her face falls. She expected a more energetic reaction, but I can't be excited about a symbol of the tragic future. She opens her mouth to speak, but I flee to my room, hurling the dress on my bed before tearing down the stairs and out the door. I've heard my father's lecture on marrying the Mayor. I don't want one from Mother as well.

"Alicia!"

A voice calls out my name as I pass through the town square. The Mayor is flagging me down, waving enthusiastically at me. "Alicia, stop in for a moment!" Dad's shadow appears in the doorway, and he pokes his head out, but I keep on running. Their voices follow after me, beating my ears with their angry tones, but I don't stop. I barrel right through the witches and Miz Fish, adding their frustrated cackles to the tumultuous noise inside my head. I continue through the square, and more voices yell my name, but I run straight for the graveyard, and through there to the woods. The voices and lights behind me fade, but they're just as loud in my mind. I keep running and running but they won't leave me alone. Why can't they leave me alone? They're scaring me. I'm scared.

Why do they scare me?

I've known everyone in that town my whole life – and now, here I am, terrified of them. I think back on Miz Fish's ugly face, on the Mayor's bloodstained other half, and the thoughts frighten me.

"Alicia?"

I whirl around. I've stopped running. When did I stop moving?

Miles stands quietly next to a tree. His truck is parked in the distance, and I can see freeway walls in the distance. I squint at him. "Where…am I?"

"I was waiting to pick you up when you tore out of the woods and kept on running. I drove after you, but the road didn't follow the woods all the way, so I had to take the freeway and keep an eye on you. We're out by the middle school."

The middle school…that's a couple of miles from the forest border. Did I really run that far? I lean down and rest my hands on my thighs to find that they have become tight and sore. Wincing, I push myself back up and force a pleasant smile onto my face. "Sorry. I just…needed to clear my mind. Let's go."

Miles still looks concerned, but allows me to take his hand and pull him back towards the truck. Climbing in, I turn on the radio, and he smiles easily at our familiar tunes. We bang our heads along with the heavy metal until we reach his house, and I can smell the rich aromas of Christmas dinner even from the driveway.

Before I reach the front door, Miles has wrapped his hands around my wrists. "Hold up, A," he mutters, whirling me around to face him. I look him in the eye, defiant. I didn't eat before I left home and the smells seeping from the house are making my mouth water. If Miles wants to keep me from my food, that's his choice.

He stares right back at me, his eyes searching, a small fold creasing in his brow. He wants to know what's wrong, but I don't feel like telling.

Finally, he places a small kiss on my forehead and lowers his hands into mine. "All right, A. If you don't want to share, I'm not going to make you. But something is wrong, so don't think I'll just forget about it."

I nod. "Thanks." He grins. "You're welcome."

A small white dot lands on his nose, disappearing instantly, and he turns his face, his brown curls swirling like a puppy's fur when it shakes itself dry. I smile at the sight and glance up at the dark clouds, the snow just beginning to fall as we dash to the porch. "A white Christmas," he murmurs. "Perfect."

I head inside and hang my coat and scarf on the hooks in the hall. "Hi, Mrs. Johnson!" I yell. My voice reverberates through the tiny house, and her head pops out the kitchen doorway. She grins broadly, a familiar smile I've often seen on Miles, and dusts her flour-coated hands on her apron. "Alicia! Hello, honey, merry Christmas! It feels like ages since I've seen you here!" She trots down the hallway and pulls me into a tight hug, and I return it. My family isn't exactly touchy-feely, so when I first came over the embraces were uncomfortable, but I got used to the hugs a few years ago.

"I was just here two weeks ago, remember?" I ask, gently prodding her. Mrs. Johnson is pretty absent-minded, so it's no wonder my last visit feels like long ago.

I came over while Dad was in his usual post-Halloween slump, and we baked some cookies while Miles worked in his sketchbook. It had felt nice and natural, and returning to scaring practice after such a cozy afternoon was odd. I'm glad to be back in her warm little house.

Miles clears his throat, and I gently disentangle my arms from her flurry of limbs. "Grab an apron and come on into the kitchen, hon," she tells me cheerfully. "I still need to marinate the chicken and bake the potatoes and boil the sauce and-" "Don't worry, Mrs. Johnson, everything will be fine. Lead the way."

Waving farewell to Miles, I lose sight of him past the kitchen walls and yank a sunny yellow apron over my head. While Mrs. Johnson rambles on about her latest projects and her worries about the meal, I quietly begin actually cooking things. As usual, she just flung all the food onto the counter with no idea what to do. The first year I spent Christmas here, Miles told me it was the first time they'd actually eaten the meat she bought and not a thawed pizza made as a result of his mother's inability to cook.

Her voice cuts into my thoughts. "I hope Sean and Mike will enjoy the meal."

A lead weight drops into my stomach and crushes my intestines. "Sean and Mike? You mean the Englemans?"

She nods. "Yes, exactly. Sean is the dearest fiancé I could ask for. He and Mike are spending the day with his relations, but they'll be back around six for dinner." The weight in my gut vanishes, only to be replaced by a rope tying my innards in knots. I knew Engleman's dad and Miles' mom were engaged, but it hadn't occurred to me that I would be spending Christmas night sitting across the table from Mike.

Things have been weird since I ran into him in the hall. He's always trying to catch my eye, trip me up, even flat-out staring at me during class. To everyone else, he's been his usual horrible self, but somehow I'm getting special attention. And it's attention that I don't want.

I congratulate Mrs. Johnson on her upcoming wedding, and she immediately launches into a detailed description of how everything will look. I tune it out, offering the occasional smile to pretend I'm interested. Mike is coming. I'm going to be in a house where Mike can show his true nature, surrounded by supportive family members (with the exception of Miles).

What if he says he likes me? What if he corners me? What if…?

Miles' entrance startles me, and I don't notice him until he's right near me. I jump a little, nearly dropping the pan of chicken, and he reaches to steady my arms. "Careful," he tells me. "Don't burn yourself before you've even cut it."

I nod. "Yeah. Thanks. Sorry, I just got a little distracted." I lean out of Mrs. Johnson's earshot. "It's kind of difficult to stay focused on your mom's rambling."

He smirks. "I know what you mean." As I set the chicken on the counter, I glance around to check on the other food, but everything is out of the oven and cooling. I glance at Miles and wipe the cooking sheen off my brow. "I think we're done," I tell Mrs. Johnson. "You should probably set the table."

She nods and heads off, and I fold up my apron. "What time is it?" I ask Miles casually. "5:30," he responds. "Would you come upstairs with me? I wanted to give you your Christmas present before the Englemans got here." "Sure, no problem," I tell him, swinging my bag with his gift over my shoulder. He peeks inside, but I snatch it away and protect it under my arms. "No peeking. It's wrapped, anyway," I say with a laugh. He chuckles and stretches his arms. "Fine, fine. I'll see in a few minutes."

Still, I notice him glancing at it on our way up the stairs.

Or maybe he's looking at me. I don't know. This whole relationship thing is weird.

We sit across from each other on his bed, and he pulls a green box out from under it before sliding it at me across the covers. I shove my shiny red bag at him, and he rips it open before I even get a grip on my own present. "…iTunes?" he mutters, glancing at the card. "I thought you'd be more creative."

I grin. "It's not just an iTunes card. If you type the code into iPhoto, it'll pull up the old library pictures of Engleman getting pranked in elementary school." I found those while I was looking for Mike and Sarah's history. Apparently some nasty kid in his class thought it would be hilarious to pelt Engleman with mayonnaise balloons upon his arrival at school. And it was.

Miles' eyes widen, and he sticks the card in his pocket with a big grin. "You're the best. This'll be great blackmail." I grin at him. "Merry Christmas, dork," I say cheerfully."

He points at my box. "Your turn."

I shred the deep green paper and toss it to the floor, lifting the lid off the container to find…

"Oh my god, you didn't," I mutter, gently lifting the fabric out of the box. "I did," he says sheepishly. "You looked too good in it. I couldn't resist."

I blush at his compliment and gently spread the green dress out on my lap. "It's gorgeous. How the hell did you afford this? You bought the suit and everything!" He shrugs. "I may or may not have gotten a part-time job. At least until I earned enough for this. It was a lot cheaper than you thought it would be."

The dress is ridiculous. I don't know when I'll ever wear it. I don't exactly have an occasion. But it really is beautiful, and for the first time all day, the smile on my face feels genuine. "Thanks, Miles. It's great. I really like it."

He arches one eyebrow. "Just like…?" he asks sarcastically. I roll my eyes. "Fine. I love it. Don't get cocky."

Grinning, he pulls me into his lap. "Merry Christmas, Alicia. You deserve it." His lips land on mine, soft and warm, and I rest my hands on his shoulders, content to stay there until the Englemans' voices echo up the stairwell to break us apart for dinner.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Alicia Skellington

Mike's face reddens, then pales at the sight of me coming down the stairs, and I ignore him.

Mrs. Johnson stands happily wrapped in Mr. Engleman's arms, her face melting with joy, and he looks pretty pleased too. "What a drive!" he announces loudly, tossing his hat onto the nearby coatrack. "The weather station said that a blizzard might snow us in before ten. I won't disagree – that snow is picking up fast."

Miles, who followed close behind me, squeezes my hand and leans in. "Great. We'll be snowed in together on the one night I don't need temptation." He plants a gentle, biting kiss on my neck, and I smack his stomach. "Pervert," I mutter.

Grinning, he slides around me and heads into the kitchen, following the meaty scent of the roast chicken. "All right! Merry Christmas, everybody!" Mrs. Johnson exclaims as we file into the dining room. "Miles, you're there next to Alicia. Sean, you've got the head of the table, and I'm next to you…Mike, you'll be next to me and across from Alicia, okay?" She offers a big smile I can't help but return, but Mike looks like he's going to throw up.

Mr. Engleman pulls out Mrs. Johnson's chair, and Miles attempts to do the same for me, but I sat down already. He glances at me. "So are you gonna stand up or what?" I raise an eyebrow. "What, you want me to stand up so I can sit down again? Not happening." He shrugs. "Fine. I was just trying to be a gentleman." _Says the guy who just almost gave me a hickey in front of his mother_, I think to myself.

Mike twitches in his seat, sweating a little bit and fighting to keep a confident expression on his face. His eyes shift from me to Miles to his dad and back to me again, and to be honest, I'm getting uncomfortable too.

Mrs. Johnson reaches into the center of the table, Mr. Engleman cuts the chicken, and we start eating one of the best Christmas dinners I've had at their house. Somehow, food tastes better when you cook it yourself.

Mrs. Johnson smiles at me. "Alicia, you've outdone yourself again. This dinner is wonderful." Mike's dad raises his glass to me. "I agree with Helen. These green beans are absolutely fantastic. Where did you get these recipes?"

I'm fighting for a way to explain to him that boiling green beans is a lot like stewing chopped fingers at home when Mike butts in. "Alicia made this?" he asks, freezing mid-bite. His dad nods. "So Helen tells me," he says calmly. "Why, do you not like it?"

Mike continues chewing. "It's not that. It's good. It's really, really good." He glances at me. "I didn't know you could cook." "It's not exactly one of those talents you see at school," I point out. He looks startled by my sharpness, but quickly finds his groove after a few awkward moments. "It's great, for a poor girl. Do you cook for the geek…I mean, Miles and his mom often?"

His dad shoots him a vicious look, and I hold eye contact with Mike, shooting him the most disgusted glare possible. Miles remains expressionless but quietly clenches his hand into a fist under the table. I grab it with my left hand, gently easing it open and sliding my fingers into his. _Not now_, I will him. _Be careful right now. _He squeezes my hand gently, and I focus back on Englebitch. He's a bitch again. His smug expression pisses me off.

"Enlighten me, Engleman. What do you mean by "for a poor girl"?" I ask coldly. I can practically feel the steel glint in my eye. "I mean, you live out in the middle of the woods. And I heard you and him talking about how you couldn't afford college or the summer trip or whatever-" "And why would that affect my cooking?" I retort. My calm demeanor, along with Miles' lack of reaction, seems to be throwing him off, and he shifts a bit in his seat. "Because you probably don't have a kitchen…? I mean you live way off in the woods, so I figured you were homeless…"

Miles clenches his fingers tightly around mine, making me wince, and I understand why. Like Miles, I can feel myself sliding from coolly angry to a volcanic eruption of my temper.

"What gives you the right to judge me for that? I'm not homeless. I live with my parents. We have a house. And I know how to cook. All you saw was me walking into the woods. Don't make a decision based off appearances. Now unless you have any other objections, you recently called my food delicious, so you should shut up and eat it," I say with a sweet smile, my voice dripping with sugary venom.

Mike shuts his trap, picks up his fork, and shoves another bite of food into his mouth. I squeeze Miles' hand and pull away to eat my own dinner. Mrs. Johnson looks very flustered, and I feel bad about that, but the "I-am-going-to-kill-you-later" looks that Engleman is getting from his dad make it worthwhile.

The rest of the meal passes in silence, and as soon as everyone's plates are clear, Miles and I volunteer for dish duty. Pile by pile, we carry plates and silverware to the kitchen sink, and as I leave with my last load I see Mr. Engleman rise and gesture for Mike to follow him. I slide a few dishes under the running water and hear the slam of the front door – Mike is in serious trouble, and I smirk.

Miles grins at me. "Serves the bastard right," he says happily. "I can't believe he actually thought you were homeless." I laugh. "I know, right? How dumb can he be?"

After the events of Halloween, I should probably feel bad that Engleman is in trouble, but his own big mouth did it. I can hear his dad's loud voice on the porch, and while the words are unintelligible, the vibrations shake the coathooks in the hallway. It makes me smile. I've grown up around fear and violence, so a simple domestic fight isn't a big deal, especially not for a guy who hates my boyfriend.

Miles turns the radio to the alternative station and blasts it, singing into one of the dirty serving forks. I laugh and join him, belting into a plastic spoon until his mother comes in from the dining room and asks us to be quiet. She departs, rubbing her forehead like she does whenever she doesn't feel well, and a flash of concern passes over Miles' face.

The front door opens and closes again, and Mr. Engleman walks back in, his face reddened from anger and the cold. Mrs. Johnson immediately appears at his side with a worried expression, and he sighs and shakes his head, rubbing her arms before climbing up the stairs. Mrs. Johnson returns to the dining room, and the worried expressions shared by the parents have spread to Miles' own face.

I nudge his shoulder, and he starts. "Go," I tell him. "Your mom needs you."

For most of his life, it's just been Miles and his mom against the world. Since she's a bit of an airhead, Miles is always there for her, and they have a support system I doubt even Mr. Engleman could replace.

He kisses my cheek gently. "I'll be back in a few." He vanishes into the other room, and I return to rinsing the dirty dishes.

A few minutes later, the front door opens very quietly, and when I turn my head I spot Mike slipping into the hallway. He brushes a few snowflakes out of his black hair and hangs up his coat, and I quickly turn my gaze back to the sink. _Oh, please please please, for the hate of all that is evil, don't let him want to come in here_.

"Hey, Alicia."

_Goddamn it. _

He leans against the counter and crosses his arms, chewing on the side of his mouth. "Sorry I said that stuff. I was trying to make conversation and I just had to roll with what I've seen. We're not exactly tight." I nod. "You got that right." I reach for the dishwasher, but Engleman is leaning on it. "Can you move? I need to put these in the washer."

He coolly sidesteps out of the way, running a hand through his slick hair, and I roll my eyes. If he's trying to impress me, it's not working. Still, he shuffles a little bit – his comfort is forced. If I'm nasty enough, maybe he'll just go away. I'm not interested in him or whatever kind of Sarah replacement he'll try to turn me into. "Did you need something with me, or are you done?" I snap. He glances at me and twines his hands behind his neck. "I just wanted to apologize. You seem cool, and I thought maybe we could hang sometime…"

I cut him off right then and there. "Thanks, but I'm not interested. And the one you should be apologizing to is Mrs. Johnson. She gets unnerved really easily, but to make her so uncomfortable on Christmas just proves what a huge douche you are." His eyes go wide, and he opens his mouth to retort, but I can't stop. I don't want to stop. "Don't think I don't know what you do at school. I've been watching firsthand when you've tortured Miles all these years. What did he ever do to you? And that guy you blamed for the football team's drug scandal, even though he didn't even play? How dumb do you think I am? I know what you've done to innocent kids. I know you'll use me, and I'm not interested."

Mike grabs my shoulders. "What if I changed? What if I wasn't that guy you've seen do those things? What if I was someone else?" I shake my head. "Doesn't matter. You've already done them. Whether or not you're actually nice doesn't matter if you still did horrible things."

He grits his teeth, and lets me go with a big push so that I stumble into the counter. I prop myself up on my elbows as he glares at me with cold, desperate eyes. He holds out his hands pleadingly. "If you'd just give me a chance…I'm better than you think I am. I was a good person once. I want to be that person again. I'm doing better."

I shake my head. "You're a bully with a short temper. Maybe you were nice in the past – I wouldn't know – but it doesn't mean you're nice now. You're impatient, crude, and vicious to anyone who doesn't give you what you want. I have three words for people like you – _go to hell_."

His face goes blank, completely hopeless, and I lower my voice. "I know what happened with Sarah," I mutter. "I'm sorry Mike, but if you're looking for a replacement girlfriend, I'm not who you're after."

He grits his teeth and approaches, trapping me against the granite. "Don't ever talk about Sarah," he hisses in my ear before drawing away. He sighs and drops his head on my shoulder, and I can feel his hot breath on my neck. It's uncomfortable. I want to get away.

"Why?" he mutters. "Why won't you even give me a chance? I'm tired of all the dumb blondes chasing after me. I'm tired of the geeky girls who trail me everywhere. I don't want a toy, or a fan, or a replacement Sarah."

He runs his gaze over my face, cupping my cheeks in his hands. "I want you," he whispers. "You, who's independent and strong and not afraid of me or anything I've done. You just ignore me, and it's amazingly refreshing. You aren't afraid of the bad side of me. You may hate it, but you're not scared of it. I feel like I can trust you. Like you could get to know the other part of me."

I lock eyes with him and speak slowly and clearly. "Just because I could, does not mean I want to. I love Miles. Miles and I are together. I am not throwing him away for a possibility with you, because I don't even like you. Now let go of me."

His hands slide away from my cheeks, and I push past him to close the dishwasher and flee into the living room.

Miles and his mother sit quietly talking on the couch, and though her face is a bit pale, she's smiling and chatting again. I plop down in an armchair across from them, and she glances at me. "Hello, dear. Dishes done?" I smile and nod, and she smiles back. "Wonderful. Thank you so much for cooking and coming and cleaning up and all that. I'm going to speak with Sean. You two can find some dessert, right?" she asks gently. Miles and I murmur our assent, and he squeezes her hand before she climbs the stairs.

Miles steps over and sits down on the arm of the chair. "What happened to you? You look dead." I shake my head. "Can you give me a ride home?"

He looks surprised. "Already? We haven't had dessert yet! Christmas ice cream is your favorite tradition." I nod. "Yeah, I know. I just want to get home before the blizzard traps me in. My parents will freak out if I don't come home."

He opens his mouth, but shuts it at the look on my face, and points out the window. "It's too late. I can't drive anywhere in that," he tells me, and when I glance out the window I realize he's right. The snow has changed from light flurries to swirling clouds of white, and decent-sized drifts are piling up against the tree in his front yard. "Ice cream it is, then," I say, and I offer a half-hearted smile. Miles looks worried, but pulls me into the kitchen anyway. I tense, but Engleman is gone.

Miles was right – the ice cream makes me feel better, and I leave my phone on in case my parents try to reach me. Filling our bowls with chocolate, whipped cream and cherries, we climb the stairs to his bedroom and watch a movie on his laptop.

A couple hours later, Mrs. Johnson walks in. "Alicia, I'm afraid you're going to have to spend the night here. The snow is much too high and the blizzard is still going strong. Is there any way to reach your parents and let them know? I know they don't have a phone." I shake my head. "Not that I can think of. Don't worry, they'll see the snow and understand that I got stuck."

She nods happily and shuts the door, and Miles wraps me in his arms. "So…you're spending the night…"

I whap him with a pillow. "Don't get any ideas. I have some self-respect." He grins. "Okay, okay, I'll sleep on the couch and you can have my room. I'll drive you home in the morning." "Thanks," I tell him, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before returning to the laptop. True to his word, he takes his pajamas and a blanket and pillow downstairs about an hour later, and I borrow a big T-shirt before curling into the covers. I take a deep breath. The scent of Miles – all pine trees and cologne and motor oil – lingers in his bed, and it's a soothing way to be sent off to sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Miles Johnson

Sometime in the night, I wake up shivering. The blanket I brought from upstairs is way too small – it doesn't even cover my feet. Goosebumps crawl up my arms and legs, and my teeth chatter uncontrollably. I roll off the couch and wrap the blanket tightly around myself before hobbling out into the hallway to check the thermostat.

No wonder I'm cold. The heat shut off.

I glance back out the living room window. The world outside is filled with dark flurries, and the pile of snow by the tree has crawled a third of the way up its trunk. The blizzard probably caused a power outage.

I don't know how long the heat will be out, but it could be a long time before it turns back on. I'll freeze if I sleep downstairs with a blanket that doesn't cover me.

The cold seeps in through the blanket as I climb the stairs and step into my room. A small ball of blankets and sheets wrapped up on my bed reveals Alicia's little burrow, and I crawl under the fabric as well. Alicia is fast asleep, shivering a bit but doing better than I am since she has multiple layers. I wrap the remaining covers around myself and press up against her back, soaking up her body heat as I fall back asleep.

"Miles."

A voice saying my name rouses me, and I blink groggily. Nothing. I shut my eyes and prepare to sleep again when…

"Miles!" This time, my name is accompanied by a sharp poke in the ribs, and I practically fly out of the sheets.

"What? What happened? What do you want?" I mutter, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. The morning light streaming in through the window alerts me to the fact that I've been asleep for a while. I stretch my arms and yawn. What was it, three, four hours? It felt like five minutes.

Alicia is sitting straight up, wide-eyed, clutching the sheets to her chest. "Miles, why are you sleeping right next to me?"

I shoot up and prop myself up on my elbows. "Uh…the heat went out in the middle of the night because of the snowstorm…it was way too cold downstairs so I came up here in order to avoid dying of frostbite." Alicia leans against the wall. "Really? I wasn't that cold." I scoff. "That's because you had sheets and my quilt, and I had a skinny little blanket."

I clamber out of the bed and wave my hand in front of the vent. Warm air greets my chilly fingertips – the heat came back on while I was asleep.

"Miles?" Alicia calls from the window. "You need to see this."

I join her, peering out of the foggy glass, and my breath hitches for a second. The neighbors' yards are piled high with snow, with tree branches and roof tiles cracking under the weight. Our yard, however, is covered in plain dead leaves, even though the back tree lost them all months ago in the fall. Not an inch of snow is on the ground – not even a centimeter of slush. Two mysterious pumpkins have appeared in the middle of our lawn, and rather than white, everything is deep orange and dark brown. I open the window a crack, and the scent of pumpkin and dust and autumn blows in.

Alicia shivers. "My dad was here. He was the only one who could've done this. He's looking for me."

I shoot her a skeptical look. "Why didn't he find you if he looked here?" She shrugs. "Maybe you were already in your bed. He saw your feet, looked in the other windows, and figured I wasn't here." She whips around and begins collecting her things. "I need to go home right now."

"You're darn right you do," a third voice mutters, and we whirl around to face the intruder.

Alicia's dad scowls at us, his brow furrowed and his eyes bottomless pits of nothing. Alicia dives in front of me. "Dad, I can explain. It's not what it looks like." "Oh isn't it?" he snaps. "You lie in a bed with your arms wrapped around a boy who's just a friend?"

"How did you even know I was here?" Alicia demands.

"I told him," another new voice announces from the doorway, and we whirl around to spot Mike Engleman leaning against the wooden frame, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "How do you know my dad?" Alicia mutters. Engleman shrugs. "I went for a walk after our little chat in the kitchen. Blizzard was getting crazy so I walked into the woods. Ran into him. He was looking for you, so I told him you were here." He shoots a cold glare towards Alicia. "Seems fitting that a bitch like you would have a monster for a dad. No wonder you're such a creep. You're not even human."

Alicia hisses at him, a catlike snarl escaping her mouth, and she leaps into the air to attack him, but her dad grabs the collar of her shirt in midair. "Oh no you don't, young lady. We're leaving. Say goodbye to your human friends. You won't see them again."

Engleman looks surprised. "Wait, what?"

Jack chuckles. "Well, naturally after this little episode, I can't let her come back here. She's got a fiancé, you know. And she will be the bride." He leans in close to her ear. "You will pay for your disobedience, Alicia. I am very ashamed of you. Having affairs with these annoying humans. Don't worry, the Mayor will take good care of you in Halloweentown."

Alicia squirms and struggles, but her father's bony grip is tight, and he leaps for the window. I jump and reach for her outstretched hand, but they're outside before I can get a grip. I stick my head out the window. "ALICIA!" I scream. "ALICIAAAA!" She hollers my name back, faint above the sound of the wind, and then they disappear behind the treeline.

Rage courses through me, and I step back to face Engleman, standing stock-still with a look of utter shock on his face. "See what you did!" I roar, punching him hard in the jaw. I read somewhere that punching is supposed to hurt you more than the other person, but I feel nothing. Only adrenaline. Only anger. He got Alicia's dad. He got my girlfriend, my best friend, taken away to be married to a creep, to be lost forever. I hit him again, and he falls backwards into the hallway. I leap him, the world blurry, my fists flying, until I feel strong hands on my shoulders, pulling me off of Mike. Sean Engleman holds me tight, and I thrash and kick at Mike as Mom lifts him off the floor. I scream Alicia's name over and over again. His fault. His fault. Sean grips me around the chest and half-tosses me into my room, slamming the door.

I sit on the floor, numb with hate and rage. My fists sting a little. I can't get into Halloweentown. Her father will be ready. He'll be waiting to attack me and throw me out again. Alicia gone. His fault. Mike's fault. Both faults.

I'll never see her again.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Alicia Skellington

The trip home is bumpy, and several tree branches scratch my face as my father holds me in front of him, a few stiff twigs cracking and drawing blood. I can feel the droplets freeze on my cold cheeks. I thrash against him, but his grip only tightens.

Mother of pumpkins, it is COLD.

The weather slows my reflexes, and eventually I succumb to it. Wrapping my arms around myself, I shiver in my clothes and stop struggling. I don't have the energy to fight. I need to keep warm.

The trees begin to look the same, the slush dripping off the branches falling cold on my cuts, and my vision blurs into a neverending stream of white. I can feel us enter the portal, the world turning gray, then black with the stormclouds surrounding our town.

Dad throws me into a chair at home, glaring at me from across the kitchen table. Mother walks in, exclaims something. She leaves my vision then returns with a steaming mug, holding it up and urging me to drink. I sip the hot liquid, so hot it burns my tongue, and I sputter back to life, drinking more of the – what is this, thistle tea? – it doesn't even matter, the heat feels so good.

Mother looks relieved. "Hello, little spider. Feeling better?" "Don't pity her, Sally. She's behaved terribly," my father chimes in. "Jack, if you don't want me to pity her, you shouldn't shove her through the cold when she's wearing practically nothing. She felt like ice when you dropped her here." She wipes a damp cloth across my cheeks, cleaning the cuts and blood away. "There. Better?" I nod, gripping the hot mug tightly in my hands.

Dad clears his throat. "Now. That's settled. Alicia, you are not to enter the human world again. They are dangerous. They ruin our glorious plans." "Our plans? OUR plans?" I stutter, my teeth chattering a bit. "I wanted no part in this plan! I never agreed to your plan! I wouldn't marry the Mayor then and I won't marry him now, and that's final!"

"Oh no, Alicia. You do not get a say in this anymore. You have blatantly disobeyed us, us, your parents, who have done nothing but care for you. The marriage will ensure your safety, and that's all we're trying to do for you. You should be grateful that we are looking out for you."

"Looking out for me? By pulling me out of school? By killing my dreams? My future career?" I snap, my voice feeling stronger. He slams his hand on the table. "What career? Your future is here. Your life was to be here. You know that. You cannot survive in the world of humans. You were born here, raised here. You were meant to be a monster."

"Who says I have to listen to you? Yes, you raised me. But that's what parents do. That's what parents are. Yes, I'm grateful. But not enough to lose my lifestyle. You can't force me to do anything," I say, looking him in the eye. "I'm not afraid."

If this is what life in the monster world would be, I would rather live as an outsider among humans than a captive in my home.

My father's face grows stormier, cold, and he rises, growing taller and taller, greater than I've ever seen him before. Lightning flashes outside, and the lightbulbs on the ceiling begin to pop, one by one. Mother crouches in the corner, looking positively terrified, and I realize that this is a true monster – the definition of evil.

"You know not what you are saying, girl. You should be afraid, for I can do what I please with you. Be grateful that I have not already crushed your weak human skull. You are a puny human! A tiny child we took from that world! We are not your parents. We owe you no responsibility. We are monsters who took in a human child, and we can get rid of you just as easily. You are nothing, you are powerless here, and you will do as I say or I will kill you. Get used to the marriage, girl. It will happen, unless you want to die an ugly, lonely death." He storms out of the room and up the stairs, and Zero whines before floating into the kitchen.

Human. I'm human.

That's why I don't have powers or fangs or fur. That's why I failed scare school. That's why I age and no one else here does.

I'm human.

Mother – Sally – not my mother kneels in front of me, placing her hands on my knees, but I jerk away. She's not my mother. She took me.

Do I have human parents? A mother and father whose baby mysteriously vanished? Jack and Sally took me here, to this frightening place. They took a human couple's child away.

"Listen to me, Alicia," Sally says, gripping my hands tightly. "We didn't take you from human parents." Did I speak aloud? "You were in an orphanage. A dirty, messy orphanage. We saved you. You would have gotten sick there."

She shakes me, trying to talk to me, but I don't want to hear it. "I don't believe you," I mutter. "You lied to me all these years. You won't tell me the truth now. I was a tool for you to move up in society. Jack has probably been planning this since the day you took me in." She rubs my arms, and I cringe. She smiles sadly. "You know Jack is prejudiced against humans since the…incident. But no matter what he tells you, no matter how he treats you, to ME, you will always be my daughter. Even if you give up on your father, please remember that your mother loves you." She kisses my forehead gently, and gentle tears roll down her cheeks.

"I guess Jack disappointed us both as a parent," I whisper.

Mother opens her mouth to speak, but Zero begins barking frantically as my father storms back in with the coil of rope I use to climb out windows. He grabs my arm and roughly shoves me up the stairs to my bedroom, slamming the trapdoor tight behind him. I can hear him fiddling with the rope, and eventually his muffled voice comes through the wood.

"You will not leave this house until the wedding. I took your rope so don't bother climbing out the windows. We'll bring your meals, and if you behave for a few weeks you can come downstairs. But no leaving the house."

His footsteps tromp away down the stairs, and I sprawl on the floor, my legs refusing to cooperate.

This will be my life. Prisoner of Jack, prisoner of the Mayor, prisoner of marriage. The tea from earlier churns in my stomach, and I crawl to the window, retching into the bushes below. The cool, damp wind from the storm dances on my face, beckoning me outside. But I can't go outside anymore. I can't open the trapdoor. Jumping out one of the windows would be suicide without my rope.

Weeks pass. I feel numb. Jack takes my silence as complacency and permits me to come downstairs, removing the rope barrier from the trapdoor. But he always watches the few times I come downstairs to make sure I don't bolt out the front door. What would be the point? He's waiting for me to run, ready for me to run. I wouldn't make it five steps outside before I got locked up again.

I lose track of time. I stop eating and talking. Jack yells, Mother cajoles, but I keep losing weight and I don't open my mouth for anything. I'm not hungry. I feel empty. The Mayor compliments my attractive new skeletal figure. I don't respond. I feel hollow.

I have a wedding dress fitting. Mother sewed it herself and looks extremely proud as I stand in front of the mirror, coated in spiderwebs and lace and cotton. She tells me I look beautiful. I look like a starved caged bird. I hold up an arm – one of my broken wings. I consider dashing some of the sewing pins across my wrists and letting them bleed. I saw it once long ago in a magazine.

Miles, poor Miles, my wonderful Miles. I don't know how he's doing. But Miles feels like a long, long time ago. Maybe I'll see him when I die. Yeah, that's it. I'll die and become a ghost like other humans, and someday he will too, and we'll be together as ghosts. Right after I use those pins.

Mother undresses me and packs up the materials, including the pins. She mutters something and leaves the house, locking the front door tight, but there's no need. I know there's a way to escape the wedding now.

Author's Note: There will be one more chapter after this. The next one is the final one!


	21. Chapter 21

Author's Note: Thank you very much for seeing this story through, if you read it all. It has been a long process and I know some readers were often impatient for the next chapter, so thank you for waiting through my long gaps between creative ideas. I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you have any questions, feel free to message me!

FINAL CHAPTER: Sally Skellington

"And you never suspected her intentions?" the reporter asked, jotting down a few notes on his pad. "No, not at all," I tell him. "The last few months she certainly didn't seem like herself, but I didn't believe she would go that far."

The reporter nods, tilting his cap at me. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Skellington. I think we have enough for the obituary. I am sorry for your loss." He scuttles out the doorway, followed by Jack, who fights to keep the crowd of townspeople off our porch. The front door slams behind him, blocking their noise.

I glance out the kitchen window at the graveyard. A fresh new stone has decorated it since yesterday. Jack didn't want her connected to our family, so the grave merely says "Alicia" in large letters. I pray that she won't have to suffer becoming a zombie and that she'll stay dead, resting in peace.

The last few weeks before the wedding, Alicia's color had come back a bit. Her eyes were sparkling a little and she had started eating again. I thought she had accepted her fate and wanted to make the best of it. Then we found her.

I found her.

The morning of the wedding, I knocked on the trapdoor and she didn't answer. I knocked a bit more, but time was going by and I was starting to get worried. The Mayor was arriving in just a few hours and Alicia needed to get dressed. I broke the door open with a serving pot and went up.

It was very, very dark. She had drawn all the curtains – perhaps the night before – and there was a lump in her bed. I thought she had overslept, but when I opened the drapes to let in the light, she wasn't sleeping.

Her body was strewn at strange angles, her wrists cracked around and her knees bent, her head turned around like something had snuck up behind her in her sleep. Her eyes were closed, but no breath came from her. I touched her wrist and chest. No pulse, no heartbeat.

I held her in my arms and wept. I cried and cried until my face stitches loosened and I had to go put myself back together. Her body stayed cold, her soft hair raining around her. I put her limbs in a better position and broke the news to Jack.

The townspeople offered their condolences, and the Mayor offered us money – money, for God's sake. Our daughter is dead and he's trying to pay us off. I finally understand how Alicia felt and I kick him on his way out the door. Jack won't say her name. He won't mention her or the wedding and he stood stone-silent at the funeral of his own child.

Weeks, months, years pass. Zero wanders in the house, moping and moaning around. Jack returns to the Halloween routine and I return to being the town apothecary. I don't touch her room. I leave it the way it was.

One night while I'm cooking dinner, I glance up and spot Jack walking in the graveyard, Zero at his heels. He looks nonchalantly at a few stones, like he's on an evening stroll, but he stops when he reaches Alicia's headstone. Now crumbling, darker gray and chipped, her name faded with the decades. He stands, frozen, pondering his choices…then falls to his knees and weeps over her grave. His tears pour forth, years and years of regret bursting out, regret over causing the death of his only child. Zero howls alongside Jack's wails, rattling our windowpanes, and I know it is time to let her go.

The next day, I shove open the trapdoor. Clouds of dust rise, and I wave them away, coughing. Everything in the room is covered in dust – her clothes are molded and full of moths, her books are ripped and damp. I reach for the bed, shaking out the sheets, when a small piece of paper flutters to the floor. It is old, yellowed with age but still dry, and covered in Alicia's blocky, childish handwriting. I collapse on the floor, tucking my knees under me, and my fingers tremble as I unfold the note.

_Dear Mother,_

_I don't know when you'll find this. It could be today, it could be years from now. But no matter what, never repeat to anyone in Halloweentown what I am about to tell you._

_I'm alive._

_I know, it sounds crazy. Someone saw me, bent up and broken and dead. But I'm not. I'm alive and I'm leaving to live the rest of my life in the human world._

_I realized that dying would be the only way to escape the wedding, but later I saw that I didn't have to die for real. I came up with a plan to escape._

_You know how Zero would sometimes go missing? He was carrying messages to Miles for me, helping us create our plan. Miles booked the plane tickets and got ready for our future together, and I got ready to fake my own death._

_I made a strong sleeping potion out of ingredients from your cabinet. I'm going to throw the bottle out the window after I drink it tonight. You can go look for it in the graveyard if you want. That's how someone will find me that morning, all twisted and knocked out. The potion controls your muscles and stops your heart for 48 hours so that everyone will think I'm dead. I looked it up special. I figured 2 days would be enough for the funeral to take place._

_I'm not sure how this plan will turn out. It could be that I made the potion too strong and really kill myself, but I want to hope for the best. Miles is going to come dig me up after I wake up, and we're going to rebury the coffin and run away together. I can't tell you where, in case Dad reads this or you find it before I wake up._

_I'm sorry to cause you pain. I hope you find this someday._

_I love you, Mother._

_Your Daughter,_

_Alicia_

Tears streaming down my face, I set the paper on the floor. Zero waddles up the stairs and rests his head in my lap, and I rub his head.

She might have died. She might be alive. She saw a desperate chance and went for it. Silly, risky, foolish girl.

My little girl.


End file.
